No Marriage of Convenience
by LanaDrama
Summary: Hermione had never expected to wake up on New Year's Day married, especially not to HIM. However, the new Marriage and Family laws make it nearly impossible to get an annulment. With her life suddenly out of control, Hermione finds comfort and support in one wizard who had always stood against her. Lucius/Hermione. Mature readers only, please.
1. Chapter 1

**One decision on New Year's Eve brings changes everything in Hermione's life when she finds herself married to Lucius Malfoy. With strict laws that promote marriage and family in order to repopulated the wizarding population, that decision can hardly be easily reversed, if at all. Will love follow this unconventional union, or are they doomed to live together unhappily ever after?**

 ***Disclaimer: All characters and canon situations belong to J.K. Rowling.**

* * *

 _New Year Resolution: Never to touch fire-whisky ever, ever again!_ Hermione thought to herself as she squinted against the stabbing sun rays.

She had never felt so tired and sore in her life.

The breaths against her neck told her she wasn't alone in her bed. Upon opening her eyes, however, she could plainly see that this wasn't her room. It looked more like a hotel's suite rather than anybody's house.

Had she really had a one-night stand with a stranger? That wasn't like her. Not at all. She wouldn't have done anything like it, no matter how drunk she had been. There must be a reasonable explanation for all this.

Stealthily, she slightly turned to peek at her bedfellow. His arm was thrown over his head, so it was difficult to make out the face, but he appeared to have a very masculine jaw with a shadow of stubble. Blonde strands of hair splayed over the pillow. Exposed torso was visible from the matted sheets around his waist. His arms and chest looked finely toned and strong. A veritable Viking, in fact. Under different circumstances, Hermione might have even congratulated herself on her good luck. However, this was too embarrassing. She couldn't even remember his name or what led them to end up in this state.

Something on his left arm caught her attention. It looked like a pale gray serpent tattoo. It looked familiar … and then it dawned on her. Blonde hair, mark of a Death Eater … that could only mean one person.

Yelping in shock and horror, Hermione tried to bolt out of bed, but got so disoriented that she merely fell back onto her pillow.

No way in hell did she spend the night with Lucius Malfoy, no matter how inebriated she was! No! No! No! What a way to start a new year! Ugh!

Groping for the night stand, Hermione took her time and slowly sat up again, before making her way around the room to find her clothes. With any luck, she'd be out of here before he woke up.

Getting dressed proved to be a challenge though as her clothes appeared to be scattered around the bedroom and living room.

She was nearly dressed and just searching for one of her shoes when something on the living room table caught her eye. It was a bouquet of flowers with a _Just Married_ sign tucked between the stems.

Next to the flowers was a photograph of her and Lucius Malfoy from last night's New Year's Eve celebrations. She didn't remember having that photo being taken. Her eyes wandered to her left hand and a horrifying suspicion became a cold, glaring reality. Sitting on her very important, usually unadorned finger was a ring. A simple band with small diamonds all the way around it.

She froze at first, then a blood-curdling scream left her mouth.

Almost at once, Lucius Malfoy came running into the room, one hand held his wand while the other one was pulling at the zipper of his trousers.

He paused and looked around. "What's going on? What happened?"

"What happened?" Hermione yelled him. "This happened!" She waved her left hand in front of his face. "Do you realize what this means?"

"Let's just calm down. This is hardly something to get hysterical about."

She hated how reasonable he sounded. Hermione didn't want to be reasonable; she just wanted to climb into bed and sleep off the entire year. A piece of paper next to the flowers mockingly stared at her. Hermione picked it up and saw that it was a marriage certificate that legally proclaimed her married to Lucius Abraxas Malfoy. What the hell had she done to deserve this?

She handed it to him, collapsing onto the couch. Hermione didn't even know what more was there to say. She felt drained. Her life was over. All over.

Ever since the new Marriage and Family Acts became laws, she avoided marriage like the plague, not that it was all that difficult considering how she wasn't exactly inundated with offers. She hated the principle of those decrees, which promoted marriage and family and penalized the singles. Just because there was a population shortage in the wizarding world in the years following the war didn't give the lawmakers the right to push one lifestyle choice above others. Singles had to pay the singles tax. Childless couples even had to pay another tax. The propaganda posters heavily advocated for couples to have a third child 'for Britain'.

Well, Hermione happily paid her singles tax rather than be driven into a marriage of convenience and be forced to put her career aspirations on hold if she were to be constantly pregnant for Britain.

"Don't fret about this, Miss Granger. A quick marriage can always be quickly annulled," he said.

Was that supposed to make her feel better?

"What planet have you been on?" Hermione screeched at him. "There is no such thing as a quick annulment. Annulments are only granted in special cases, such as spousal abuse. And again, only if it's physical! We're stuck! My life is so over!"

"We'll figure it out," he said in firm determination.

"How did this even happen? How did we even come up with this idea?" she asked him in disbelief.

He cocked his eyebrow at her. "You don't remember?"

"Obviously not!" she snapped at him. She hated his smugness and coolness in this situation. It would have been better to have someone who shared her panic and shock.

He launched into an explanation, "We were talking about the new family decrees and berating the propaganda surrounding them. I complained about the rising taxes for divorcés and you complained about the singles tax being higher than your annual lease on your flat. Then I made a remark how if we were married to each other, it would solve all our problems. We laughed it off at first, but then we agreed how amusing it would be to do it in order to demonstrate to Ministry's lawmakers how ridiculous and impractical their laws are."

"So it's a roundabout way of admitting it's all your fault," Hermione glumly concluded.

"My fault? My dear," his tone was beyond condescending, "it takes two people to get married."

Hermione wished she could slap the haughtiness off him.

"We wouldn't even be in this situation if you haven't made your stupid suggestion when I was not capable of clear thinking. I was drunk and you took advantage of me!" she shouted at him.

He looked angry now.

 _Good. That makes two of us, at least,_ she thought to herself.

"Take advantage of you? Is that what you think?"

"Yes. You're vile and cruel, and you hate me. You did this just to humiliate me, or … or … do something worse." Hermione suddenly felt fear trickle in addition to her anger.

He let out a mirthless laugh. "Yes, that's exactly why I married you. Because if I wanted to do any of those things to you, I'd definitely need to be married to you first. You do think highly of yourself, Miss Granger. Or should I say Mrs. Malfoy now?"

"Hell, no! I am not changing my name. I don't even want to be married to you. I wouldn't even touch you even if you were the last man on Earth! You did something last night to make me agree to this!"

A tense silence settled between them after her outburst. Hermione knew she went a step too far with insults, but his calm teasing was grating. Why couldn't he share her panic like a normal person?

"So that's what you really think happened? That I coerced you into this somehow? Used a spell or a potion?"

"Well, it's a possibility," Hermione said, unable to stop her snide remarks from leaving her lips.

The gleam in his eyes faded and they turned steely opaque, giving his countenance a ruthless edge.

She felt immediately guilty for accusing him of something so vile.

"That is your estimation of me?" His voice was deadly calm and even.

"It's not like I have much to go on."

 _Shut up, Hermione!_ she silently yelled at herself.

"How unfortunate for us both then," he said and walked back into the bedroom.

Hermione felt even more guilty.

"Mr. Malfoy…" she called after him, not knowing what she could possibly say to him by way of apology.

"Take a hint, Miss Granger. When I leave the room, it means I no longer have anything to say to you," came his cold reply.

Feeling her eyes well up with tears, Hermione bolted to the bathroom.

She wouldn't cry. She wouldn't cry. Not over him.

More than ever, she wished she could just sleep through the entire year. This was going to be a disaster.

And it was only day one of this wretched marriage.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you for such a great response to this story. It's my first Marriage Law fic, so it's exciting. Now for those of you who thought it was only drinking that caused it, you missed a little clue, so off to detention with you (j/k) :-)**

* * *

"I see you finally left your favorite room," Lucius said when Hermione finally emerged from the bathroom.

"Mr. Malfoy, I'm sorry about what I said. I overreacted and threw around unfounded accusations in an attempt to rationalize my involvement in this … situation." The word marriage felt heavy and foreign on Hermione's tongue and she couldn't bring herself to call it that. "I only saw things from my point of view, but now that I think about it from your perspective, I realize that it's probably even worse for you than it is for me."

He looked at her passively, without giving any hints to what he must be thinking. He cocked his head to the side, "Why should it be worse for me? I, at least, have a clear memory of last night's events."

She waved her hands dismissively as she pointed out the obvious, "Oh, you know, I'm probably the last person you expected to be married to. I don't know what caused us to decide it was a good idea, but we weren't ourselves. Anybody who knows either of us would know that we never would have chosen this soberly."

He cleared his throat, looking very uncomfortable. "While you were hiding out in the powder room, I've contacted my solicitor about our situation. He will meet with us on Monday to discuss our options."

 _Monday, that's not too bad,_ she thought. _That's only two days away._ Hermione was oddly reassured by his calm and assertive demeanor. She was so used to taking charge of things that it was refreshing to have someone else do it for a change. Now she felt thoroughly ashamed of her early words. Waking up married against her will or recollection had hurled her into a state of hysteria unlike any she had ever experienced before. Still, it wasn't an excuse to spew her hateful speech at him; he was in the same predicament, after all.

Lucius Malfoy looked at her expectantly.

"Monday sounds good," she meekly replied. "I have a day off, so just owl me the time and place, and I'll meet you there."

Clearing his throat again, he spoke slowly and deliberately. "I think we should probably meet at my townhouse here in London. It's best to handle this as privately as possible until we can take appropriate action. I thought for that reason we shouldn't do anything that would draw undue attention to ourselves."

Hermione eagerly nodded. "Yes, that's very … good idea. I commend you on your foresight."

An oppressive silence settled between them. There was nothing more to say. Hermione just wanted to escape this place and pour her heart out to her best friends. They'd be shocked, that much was certain, but she needed their warmth and comfort more than anything. Even if they harped on about how uncharacteristic it was of her to make so many irresponsible decisions in one night.

"So I'll just see you on Monday then. Owl me the time and I'll Floo over. Is that okay?"

"Yes, of course," he stiffly responded, moving out of her way.

As she made her way towards the door, Hermione couldn't tell what was worse: stilted, forced politeness or epic rowing from earlier. They had their differences, as always. She worked for the Wizards and Witches for the Ethical Treatment of Magical Creatures organization, and Lucius Malfoy was the biggest opponent to nearly every new proposal that was placed from it before the Ministry. He wasn't always successful in stopping progress, and she felt positive about the many changes that the organization has made so far, much to his chagrin. None of those differences, however, made up for her being so nasty to him this morning. She could only hope that once this whole ordeal was over, she could make up for it somehow, maybe take him to dinner and laugh about it all.

Yes, maybe this time next year, they'd be laughing about it at the New Year's Eve gala, and all this would be forgotten.

* * *

When Hermione arrived at Grimmauld Place, she immediately bombarded Harry and Ginny with questions about New Year's Eve as she filled them in on the events of this morning.

Harry was understanding and nonjudgemental, which surprised Hermione considering how much he disliked the Malfoys. Ginny, on the other hand, turned deathly pale and looked as though she wanted to throw up.

"Oh, Hermione, I'm so sorry," she whispered.

Hermione nodded at Ginny's sympathy. "When I left, he said he's going to contact his solicitor and see what can be done about this. The more I think about it, the more I am convinced we'll qualify for an annulment since divorce proceedings require certain prerequisites that we are unable to meet."

"Like what?" Harry asked her.

"To apply for a divorce decree, you have to be married at least three years, probably longer if you're still childless," Hermione explained, "and I don't remember what else. I didn't think I'd have to worry about it anytime soon, so those details are not fully clear to me. Tomorrow when the library is open, I'm going to research everything about those marriage and family laws, and see if there was ever a precedent for our situation. There must be. We can't be the only ones."

"I am so, so sorry," Ginny repeated.

Hermione patted her friend on the back; she seemed to be taking it almost as bad as she was. "Ginny, it's okay. My nerves are completely frazzled by this, but now that I think about it, the way this happened might make it easier for us to get it dissolved since true consent didn't exist in our case. Without consent, the marriage is null and void. When people drink too much they do things they regret, and so we did, albeit on a more extreme scale than most. What is really odd is that I don't remember drinking much at all and don't recall a single thing that happened once we arrived at Whitehall. Lucius Malfoy, however, recalls everything perfectly. It just sort of makes me wonder if he had done anything. I feel awful for even thinking it, but it's just feels odd that I can't remember while he can."

"Of course!" Harry chimed in. "He must have given you something or put you under a spell. We'll get to the bottom of this. I … I mean _we_ will help you, Hermione. I'll see that he gets locked up in Azkaban for this."

"Enough!" Ginny screeched. The two friends turned to look at her, stunned by her unusual reaction. "It wasn't him. It was all my fault!"

Hermione was even more bewildered now. "What's all your fault? Ginny, don't be ridiculous. You weren't the one who tricked me into marriage, how can it be your fault?"

Ginny's hands shook as she apologetically stared at Hermione. "It is my fault. I did this … sort of."

Harry frowned, but didn't say anything.

Feeling amused for the first time this morning, Hermione humored her friend. "How, Ginny? How could you have possibly been responsible for this?"

Ginny cast her eyes down before speaking, "I performed a True Match Spell on you. Remember when I borrowed your hair comb? I did it so I could get a strand of your hair to do the spell. That's why this happened and that's probably why you don't remember much."

Hermione's jaw nearly dropped to the floor as she processed the information. It didn't seem real. Surely, Ginny was only teasing.

Ginny went on, "I didn't mean for it to make you get married or anything. We thought you needed a little encouragement to go out and meet someone. You can't do that at work exactly since there are hardly any eligible wizards there, so I thought it would at least help you just to meet someone and take it from there."

Harry held up his hands. "Please, don't include me in that royal we. For the record, it was all _her_ idea. I had nothing to do with this."

"Fine. I take full responsibility for it. Hermione, you're always so serious about work. What little free time you do have, you spend either with us or at home with your nose in a book. None of those activities will ever help you meet anyone. I know the new laws suck, but you can't be alone your whole life out of sheer protest."

"So your alternative was to put a spell on me?"

Ginny chewed on her lip. "To be honest, I had no idea it would work so well. A co-worker described it as it just being sort of an aphrodisiac for one person that's right for you. Never, ever did she mention anything about anyone deciding to get married or having memory losses after it wears off. Otherwise, I wouldn't have considered performing it on you in a million years. Come on, I want you to be happy, not in danger."

Hermione folded her arms over her chest. "That's why you should have been more careful. Why didn't you try to find out more about it?"

Harry jumped in before Ginny could respond to her, "While I agree the whole plan was daft, it's too late to talk about what should have been or could have been. This proves that you were under an influence of a spell, so it might help you to get an annulment sooner. Ginny can write it down, so you can show it to Malfoy's solicitor. It'll be definitive proof that true consent for marriage didn't exist in your case."

"That would be best," Hermione said. "Ginny, when you write it be sure to include every detail pertaining to the spell and how you administered it. I think more than anything having this statement would help us."

Ginny sat down to write and after several drafts, handed her parchment to Hermione. "You know for a notorious Death Eater, he doesn't sound so bad now. He's been very nondescript since his trial. You're married to him, might as well take advantage of it. It can't hurt your sex life in any case." She winked at her.

"Why would you even bring that up?" Hermione groaned out.

"Yeah, Ginny. That's disgusting. I don't need those images in my head," Harry commented, grimacing.

Turning to her husband, Ginny rolled her eyes. "Then don't picture it." She faced Hermione again. "You're a bright witch, put it together: you're married! Sure, it happened while you were under the influence of True Match Spell, but if you have to stay married for a while, you might as well enjoy the perks. See if he's as good as he's rumored to be."

Hermione's voice was hard as she glared at her friend. "That's not going to happen. Ever."

"Oh, why not? If you're going to stay married until the annulment, you might as well get something good out of it. If he turns out to be terrible, then this marriage will be dissolved eventually anyway. If he's good, you'll both have something fun to do while you're awaiting that annulment."

Hermione was appalled. "Ginny, honestly, I can't believe you'd even bring it up. I have nothing in common with Lucius Malfoy. He probably thinks he sullied his entire family line and legacy by marrying me. Besides, I can't be … intimate with someone who despises my family and where I come from. Let's just talk about what I can do while waiting for this mess to get sorted out."

Ginny grinned. "Well, there's not much to do until your Monday meeting … unless you want to call your hubby and ask him to consummate your marriage again."

"Ginny! I mean it, stop it!"

"Yes, please. Some of us don't want to lose our appetites," Harry piped up with a sour look on his face.

"Okay, okay, I'll stop. But I think the lady doth protest too much. He may not be your dream man, but the spell worked. It must mean there is something to your union. You're each other's match, you'll be compelled to explore that at some point."

 _Don't hold your breath, Ginny Potter._

For the rest of the day, however, Hermione couldn't help but wonder if anything sexual happened last night. Since his memory wasn't impaired, she was tempted to ask him in the letter she wrote him about Ginny's confession, but temptation didn't come to fruition. It's not something one can casually inquire about in a letter. Moreover, Hermione didn't feel the usual after-effects of lovemaking that she normally felt. Perhaps it meant that indeed nothing happened between them and the marriage wasn't even consummated despite their attempt at it.

It surprised Hermione that this thought, instead of comforting her, disappointed her. It nagged her even more that she couldn't get the image of Lucius Malfoy half-naked this morning out of her head.

What a bothersome wizard. The sooner this mess is sorted out, the faster they can get back to their normal lives.

* * *

 **A little hint: annulment won't be as easy as everybody seems to assume.** **It seems almost cruel to dash their hopes. Almost ;-)**

 **Hugs,**

 **Lana**


	3. Chapter 3

"Denied? How can it be denied?" Hermione exclaimed in confusion, regretting the watercress sandwiches she'd consumed while awaiting the arrival of Mr. Malfoy's solicitor, who had just delivered the shocking news.

Amos Flynt regretfully looked between Hermione and Lucius. "I'm afraid, your case just doesn't qualify under the current legislation," the elderly solicitor said.

"But why not?" Hermione said, looking over the notes she'd compiled from her research over the weekend. "It says annulment can be granted for the following reasons: if one party is under the age of consent, if consent was given under the influence of an Unforgivable Curse, and if one or both parties were under the influence of love potions. True Match Spell works like a love potion, doesn't it? I know that it's not a potion, but it produces similar effects, so it fits with the stipulations under the current law."

Mr. Flynt shook his head. "No, Miss, it doesn't and for two reasons. Firstly, being that it is not a potion. The law is very specific. It omits love spells for a reason. Secondly, True Match Spell doesn't compel anyone to enter into matrimony. This particular spell only works in a matchmaking sense. It introduces two prospective lovers together, but it doesn't alter one's true inclinations. If it had no effect on your actions, then free consent existed. If free consent existed, it doesn't fit the conditions for an annulment under the new Marriage Decree. I understand that this is a singular situation and frustrating for both of you, but the law is the law. Divorce, however, is an option."

"Twice divorced, here's a novelty for my family," Lucius commented off-handedly, crossing his arms over his chest.

Hermione gave him a curious look. He looked … wounded.

"But … but a divorce decree can't be granted as quickly as an annulment," Hermione said, wanting Mr. Flynt to contradict her.

Mr. Flynt nodded. "True … unless there is a danger to one's life. The reason for the waiting period is to compel the couple to remain in the union long enough to produce children. After the children are born, then it is easier to apply for a divorce. In those cases, there is no waiting period other than the time it takes for the couple to agree on the usual arrangements."

"Well, there is no choice then," Lucius conceded. "We'll just have to apply for a divorce after completing the standard waiting period. Which is how long in our case, Amos? A year?"

"Three years, actually." Mr Flynt looked very uncomfortable as he informed them of this matter.

"Three years? But where does it say that?" Lucius cried out, shuffling through Hermione's sheets of parchment that comprised her notes.

She rolled her eyes. "Article 2, Section 14 states that if three years from the wedding day there are no children, a couple becomes eligible to either file for divorce or pay another tax if they choose to remain childless. It's why statistically most married couples now have children within the first two years of marriage."

"Do you really memorize that much about every useless law the Ministry passes? And why three specifically? Did the Ministry buffoons just pull that number out of a hat?" Lucius asked in annoyance.

"Yes, they randomly pulled a number out of thin air," Hermione responded, her tone laced in sarcasm. "Who cares why? What matters is that it is the law, and that's how long it takes. And no, I don't memorize useless laws, just the ones that affect my life. You know I campaigned against its passage, so I am very familiar with its basics."

"Except for the part that said love potions are not synonymous with love spells, but we forgive your oversight in this case," Lucius snidely drawled.

"It wasn't an oversight. I thought it represented a valid loophole. If an annulment is not directly denied on certain grounds, then those reasons can be used as implied conditions under which annulments could be granted," she protested. "Why do you constantly have to argue with me? You can't stand it that someone who's so lowly in your estimation may actually know more about some aspect of magic than you do."

"I'm not arguing. Arguing implies that something is debatable. _I'm_ pointing out facts; the undebatable and proven details of life. You're clearly are not any more knowledgable on this subject than anyone else in the room because five minutes ago you had no idea that love spells do not count as love potions for annulment grants."

"Well, it did alter _my_ state of mind like a potion, because I hardly remember a thing from last night." Hermione turned back to Mr. Flynt. "You see, it could qualify us because I can't remember, which shows that I wasn't consenting with clear mind. If the spell has affected me so negatively then my consent cannot be considered free, which renders this marriage invalid."

"No, Miss Granger, your memory loss is only temporary post-magical effect; it is indicative that the spell wasn't performed by a particularly skilled witch or wizard," Amos Flynt explained. "The way you feel now is not an absolute proof of how you were feeling at the time of marriage. I will reiterate, this spell cannot force two people into matrimony; it merely blinds you to other people in the room, makes the individuals under it see the obvious, so to speak. How the two individuals act on this attraction is entirely up them, the spell has no influence over those actions. Both the judge and the clerk at the Ministry, who issued your marriage certificate, stated that you were perfectly lucid."

Hermione sighed. "Then it's settled. We'll wait three years and apply for a divorce."

Mr. Flynt cleared his throat. "To maximize your chances of not having to wait additional time along with standard waiting period, may I suggest that you two might want to do everything in your power to have sufficient evidence that the marriage was true in every sense?"

She frowned. "What kind of evidence?"

Flynt went on, "I'm only suggesting it because there have been cases where couples marry for convenience as a way to avoid financial burdens of unmarried taxes. Those situations, when discovered, are usually punished with time added before divorce decree is granted. I don't want you two to think that if you wait three years, then you automatically get your divorce. That may not be the case if you live apart or as mere roommates."

Lucius and Hermione exchanged looks.

"So we'll make it look like a valid marriage," Lucius consented. "We can announce our nuptials in style, live together, and put on appearances expected of married couples. We can even go on a honeymoon, whenever she gets a time off."

She nodded. "Yes, if that's what it takes to not make it to four years, then we'll have to do it. I don't know how I'll break it to my parents, but I'll do it."

"You don't have to," Lucius said.

Turning to him, she adamantly shook her head. "It wouldn't be right. I don't want the whole of magical world to know before them. I've kept things from them in the past, and after I've restored their modified memories, we have agreed to be honest with each other. How would you feel if Draco got married and didn't tell you?"

"I see your point. We'll just have to tell them together."

Hermione couldn't believe her ears. "But why would you want to do that?"

"Because you didn't do this alone. When you tell them of our circumstances, it's best to do it together and present a united front," he casually explained. "We'll assure them that we are taking the proper steps to terminate the marriage. You can't show up on their doorstep and announce that you've married over the weekend without so much as a glimpse of your husband. It looks suspicious and will make them worry."

"Thank you," she simply said.

He merely nodded at her words, but didn't respond. "Well, Amos, thank you for coming. I think we know what needs to be done now," Lucius declared.

Mr. Flynt got up, but fixed them with another uncomfortable look. "Remember now, when you live together, it cannot be a platonic arrangement. Moving into a house together is only one step. When the Family Council will question you under Veritaserum, they'll ask intimate questions … the sort of questions husband and wife would know about each other."

"You mean sex," Hermione bluntly said.

"Well … yes. It is all up to you, but it will take longer to obtain your divorce if you two live as strangers under the same roof," the elderly wizard awkwardly expounded. "You do not qualify for an annulment and as long as marriage is not consummated, there can be no divorce. However, one act in three years does not a marriage make, so it is in your best interests to have as much sufficient proof that this marriage is real in every sense."

Hermione turned beet red.

"Well, Amos, we'll come up with an arrangement that suits us both and satisfies the conditions of the Family Council," Lucius said dismissively, as he showed Mr. Flynt to the door.

When they were finally alone, Hermione didn't dare to look at him. This was so embarrassing to talk about their private life in front of a stranger.

"Miss Granger, it's best to address this point now, rather than pretend it'll resolve itself."

"You're right," she agreed. "So how would we … go about it?"

"Once a week should be enough proof that we are making a sincere attempt at this marriage," he stated in a clinical tone. He might as well have been talking about the weather.

Hermione groaned. "I'm sorry. I know I wrongly accused you of drugging me, but it's actually more my fault than yours since Ginny is the one who used that spell on me. I know she meant well but she had no right to do something like this."

"Weasleys tend to meddle in matters that don't involve them. This doesn't surprise me in the least."

She thought she ought to defend her friend out of sheer obligation, but she was still furious with her, and didn't bother contradicting Malfoy's insult.

"She doesn't even take this seriously. Five seconds after being all shell-shocked, she started making all kinds of sexual innuendos about us. She doesn't realize that it's other people's lives she's dealing with and her actions have serious repercussions and consequences that extend beyond sex."

"And on that point, we do have an agreement on a weekly congress, do we not?" he asked, his tone formal and indifferent.

"Well, yes. I guess we can cross out this week since we've done it already."

"No, we didn't." His lips twitched up.

"But I woke up next to you … naked."

"Correct. Let's just say, the spirit was eager but the flesh proved weak."

"What do you mean?" she asked in confusion.

"You fell asleep when things have progressed far enough. Whatever you think of me, I'm not interested in taking advantage of witches who are too incapacitated to have any say in the act."

"So we didn't?"

He shook his head. "No, we didn't. I presume you didn't experience much of that sort of foreplay in your previous encounters."

She snorted. "I've only had sex a few times and found it to be painful and uninteresting. Whoever said that it only hurts the first time was seriously deluded. I don't know why everyone makes such a big deal over it. I'll do what's required of us, but don't take it personally if I won't be fainting away in orgasmic bliss time after time."

A bright glint returned to his eyes. "Ah, so you don't know then how good it can be."

"I suppose not. But it's not like I feel a void in my life because of it. I have better things to think about than carnal preoccupations."

"That's because yours can hardly be called an experience. That's barely an introduction," he argued. "You're making judgements on the whole act based only on disappointment. I'm surprised a witch as bright as you would put so much stock in ignorance."

"I'm not ignorant. I know about sex. It's just not something I enjoy."

Hermione thought she'd die of embarrassment. Never had she imagined she'd be having this discussion with Lucius Malfoy.

Lucius shrugged. "Everyone who reaches puberty knows the mechanics of sex. You lack more specialized knowledge."

"Good point. You're right. Happy?"

"Is the idea of us together really so distasteful to you?"

It was more alarming than distasteful. She grew wet just remembering the morning she woke up next to him. A memory of his hands skating up her thigh and sliding into her knickers made its way into her consciousness. The recollection was so vivid, she could almost feel his touch. Her inner muscles clenched in agreement. No, it wasn't distasteful at all. Averting her gaze, she gave a slight shake of her head.

"That's a good start. Although I'm used to a more enthusiastic response."

"Good for you. You're not the one who has to endure an act you don't like every week just to have real proof for the Family Council that we were truly married and not entering one of those fake marriages to avoid additional taxes," she snapped.

He continued, "Well then, this whole arrangement can only work for your benefit. I can give you the instruction in carnal matters that a young witch should have, especially the one who doesn't plan on being alone and celibate for the rest of her life."

"And what's in it for you? What would you get in return for this instruction? Besides a speedy divorce in three years?" Hermione challenged him.

He leaned against a mantle, his eyes roving over her. "It is a rare treat for me to be the first to introduce a woman to carnal pleasures. It's not something I appreciated in my youth and now … well, there are not many opportunities for that. You are such an opportunity."

"That's it? That's all you want?"

His eyes narrowed and his lip curled slightly at her astonished questions. "No. But it is all I want from you. We would fulfill our requirements so the Council would have no reason to extend our waiting period, and you'd gain knowledge without having to go through a string of unskilled lovers. In the future, you'll use this knowledge to please the future husband of your choice and yourself."

"You are very persuasive. It would be more educational than simply lying back and thinking of England, I suppose. But I don't … I don't think I can do it tonight, and I don't see how you can even be in the mood either."

He smirked. "While I'm sure I could rise to the occasion, it would not be prudent to do so tonight. What I had in mind is something to get you more comfortable with me and with your own body. You just seemed so timid and skittish last time we were together that it's best to start slow."

"I like slow." She gave him a warm smile. This kind of understanding she did not expect of him. She thought he'd just do it in the way that's most convenient for him.

"Excellent. Tonight then, after you get settled."

"Yes. Tonight," she confirmed, feeling the heat of anticipation rise in her body along with a million nerves.

* * *

She watched in trepidation as the handle of the door connecting her room to Lucius's turned. Her eyes grew wide and she protectively gripped the duvet with two fists.

The door swung open and Lucius strode in. He appraised her with a critical eye, then shook his head.

"Wrong, Miss Granger. All wrong. How are you supposed to hold my interest like this?"

"What? What did I do?" Tears sprang to her eyes.

Confusion and shame swallowed her. He knew going into this that she was inexperienced. Why did he have to be so callous and cavalier about it? How was she to know what was right and wrong with just sitting on the bed? Should she have sat somewhere else?

"Do you know what I saw when I walked in? A witch who's frightened out of her wits. That's not enticing." His voice held no hostility or mockery as he continued to explain to her, "Think about this from your partner's point of view. You want to convey the impression that he's wanted and that you're excited about what is to happen. No one wants to feel as though this is an obligation, even if it is. Or worse, driven by fear."

She huffed, "I didn't know I was going to be judged on all these intricacies now."

"You must be willing to accept instruction if you truly wish to learn and enjoy the act. Would you like to try this again?"

"Okay, but give me a moment."

Her hands shaking, she took off her jeans and shoes. Then positioned herself at the center of the bed, twisting her hips so that her knees fell to one side and slightly parted. She unbuttoned the top button of her blouse and smoothed it out. The door opened again and her self-consciousness returned with vengeance. Her pose felt somehow amateurish and contrived.

"You're a promising student," he purred.

"Th-thank you," she stammered and quickly set up. "What do I do now?"

A corner of his mouth lifted. He sat down on a chair beside the bed. "Now you undress," he hissed. "And then you will undress me."

Her mouth went dry. "You said we wouldn't do anything tonight."

"And we won't. I asked you to get undressed and then help me to do the same. That is all."

She got up and slowly stepped up to him until their knees touched. Maybe if she started undressing him first, he wouldn't care if she was dressed or not.

"Miss Granger," he softly admonished her, amusement dancing in his eyes. "You're not following my instructions. What did I say to do first?"

She replied by stepping out of her knickers first, her blouse provided a modicum of privacy while she still technically complied with his wishes. Playing with the last button on the bottom of her garment, she pulled it through its hole, then did the same with another and another, traveling slowly up.

He watched her in silence as she discarded the blouse and lowered the straps of her bra. Her hands shook as she raised them behind her to fumble with the clasp on her back. Unexpectedly, he reached for her waist and lowered her to straddle his lap. She watched in fascination as he caught her hands in his and brought them to the front again. A pleasant shiver ran down her spine at the contact.

"Not so fast. Half of the excitement in seeing your partner naked is the anticipation of it."

Hermione held her breath as his hands moved behind her back and effortlessly unclasped her bra. The fabric loosened around her breasts and he slowly slid it away from her before tossing it aside.

Her heart thundered in her chest at what he might think of her. It wasn't the first time he saw her nude, but it was the first time for her. Was he disappointed? How did she compare to the hordes of women he'd bedded?

"Lovely," he murmured, dragging one finger from her collarbones to the area between her breasts, and then down to her navel. He stopped his progress there though Hermione found herself silently wishing he hadn't.

She giggled at her thoughts and he chuckled in the same rich tone that warmed her all over.

"See? This isn't so bad."

"No, it's not so bad," she echoed.

"I believe you haven't completed all your tasks."

While she loved the sensation of pressing her nude body against his clothed one, the prospect of being naked together was too intimidating. She panicked at the thought and swallowed a lump in her throat.

"I'm sorry. I can't do this. I just … can't. Not tonight."

Without another word, she dashed off to the bathroom on the other side of the room. She cringed at how ridiculous she must have seemed to him as she haphazardly threw on the nightgown she had unpacked few hours earlier. In her haste and nervous excitement, she had only manage to pack a few essentials, the rest she could pick up at a later time.

Hermione half expected HIM to knock on the bathroom door and lecture her on the importance of not quitting when faced with difficulty, but the knock didn't come. When she finally dared to come out, the room was empty.

With a cry of frustration and defeat, she flopped onto her bed. The fact that he was so considerate made her feel even worse. They had one job to do; he agreed to make it as pleasant for her as possible, when he didn't have to, and she had mucked it up. At no time did Mr. Flynt mention that sex had to be pleasurable or enjoyable. Lucius offered to show her how good it could be, to make it different than before. He didn't have to extend such offers. He didn't even ask her to do anything other than undress herself and him. He was trying to make her feel more comfortable around him before anything sexual would occur, and she rebuffed him. Feeling disgusted with herself, Hermione tossed the duvet aside and cried herself sleep.

* * *

 **Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing. I didn't want this year to end without giving you another update on this story. Happy New Year to you all!**

 **Hugs,**

 **Lana**


	4. Chapter 4

"Wow, you look like hell. Rough New Year's?" was the greeting Hermione received from her co-worker and friend, Kelsey Silverstrum when she settled at her desk.

She looked up at Kelsey's smiling, friendly face as she leaned over the shared wall of their cubicle, eager to have their usual morning chat.

"So where did you disappear to on New Year's Eve? You said you'd drop by and you never did. What gives?" She raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow at her as she twirled her thick blonde curls into a bun on top of her head. Hermione had always envied Kelsey the carefree way she managed to do everything, even tame her wild mane of hair.

Looking into her accepting blue eyes, Hermione found herself spilling the entire events of last weekend to her.

"But I don't get it," Kelsey said when Hermione finally finished her story, "if it's Ginny's spell that got you two together, why isn't it good enough reason for an annulment?"

"I don't know. Something about True Match Spell not having the power to magick people into marriage. The solicitor said this spell only brings a couple together; it doesn't compel anyone to do anything against their will like an Imperius Curse would."

Her confidante wrinkled her nose. "So, then what? Divorce? With Marriage and Family Laws, good luck getting that committee of freaks to grant one to you without jumping through fire hoops backwards. Hermione, you've got to go back and appeal their decision on this. I think you've got a great case for annulment. I've had lots of experience in international law, and just because there is no precedence for that spell compelling people to marry, doesn't mean it played no part in your decision. Yeah, it's not an Unforgivable Curse, but it did bring you two together and without it, there is ample proof that you would not have up and married each other. For starters, you two weren't even romantically involved. Not even casually! I'll help you appeal. You shouldn't have to be punished for a decision you made because your so-called friend put some spell on you." Her Texas twang was at its strongest when she was angry and it brought some comfort to Hermione that someone else could feel this way on her behalf.

"Mr. Flynt didn't say anything about an appeal, but he did make it sound like the only option was divorce," Hermione confessed.

"Can't you seek a second opinion?" Kelsey inquired. "Even if annulment was denied when this Flynt guy filed on y'all's behalf, it wouldn't hurt to appeal. The worst they can do is deny it, but you already know it's a likely possibility. It just makes more sense to try to find quicker avenues to end this, then go around the hard way for the divorce route."

Hermione chewed on her lip. "I didn't think of that, but Amos Flynt is the best. If he thought appealing would yield a different result, he would have mentioned it. I don't want to get bogged down in back-and-forth appeals, especially since there's nothing new to add to our case. If it was denied with Ginny's confession and statement, it's going to be denied no matter how much we cry about how unfair it is. We're just going to have to get one with it."

"Is it really something you want to do? No offense, but if you feel as awful as you look, this isn't a healthy situation to stay in. I wasn't here during the war or anything but, from my interactions with him at the Magical Creatures Rights conferences, he seems really narrow-minded and bigoted. He's just so different values-wise from you that I don't see how it can end well. Like my grandmother used to say, you can't hitch a horse with a coyote."

Hermione smiled at the metaphor. "I know it sounds weird to say it, but being married to him is not that bad. He's actually handling it much better than I ever expected he would. Certainly better than I had. I freaked out when I found out, while he was all cool, calm, and collected. He just took care of all arrangements while I was wallowing in misery."

"Wow, sounds … sweet, actually." Kelsey looked pleasantly surprised. "I thought he'd be the kind to blast the committee people to pieces or blackmail them into giving him what he wants."

"I know, right? That's why I feel bad for acting like a spoiled brat," Hermione admitted.

"You? A spoiled brat? You're like the last person I'd ever describe in those terms."

Hermione covered her face with some documents in embarrassment. "I was though." She recounted exactly what happened in the bedroom to Kelsey, feeling ashamed of her immature reactions all over again. To a worldly Kelsey, her concerns about sex must seem so childish.

She felt Kelsey's hand tug the parchment out of her face. "Don't be all embarrassed, there's nothing wrong with what you did."

"Yeah, right." Hermione snorted. "He wasn't even going to do anything to me, asked me to do two non-sexual things and I couldn't handle that. He must think at this rate it'll take us until our golden anniversary to get a proper divorce."

Kelsey shook her head and looked mildly impressed. "He won't. Oddly enough, he gets it. He knows that you're inexperienced and haven't enjoyed the experiences you did have. So he's not pressing you or guilt-tripping you. That's a good sign, Hermione. Who knew Lucius Malfoy was so considerate?" She grinned at Hermione. "And you are not so indifferent towards him yourself. You didn't trust yourself to be naked with him and not jump his bones. Now I see why you're not so keen on appealing." The American witch gave her a knowing wink.

Hermione blushed. "That's not true. It was just so intimidating … I mean him and me … together like that … I'm just … okay, maybe you're a little right. But I never knew it was possible to have those urges for someone I don't like that much."

"Honey, some of the biggest jerks I've ever met turned out to be the best shags ever. If you have to have marital relations in order for this thing not to be delayed, you might as well enjoy it."

"Now you're sounding like Ginny," Hermione wryly remarked.

"Eew, please don't go there. I'd never perform a spell on people without their consent. Unless I was being attacked. The way I see it if you're not going to appeal, then divorce is the only option. Your weekly shags could be these obligatory things you'd both have to awkwardly endure, or you could have fun and enjoy it. It'll be like friends with benefits type thing."

"Only we're not friends."

Kelsey rolled her eyes. "Yes, but the arrangement is the same. Once the divorce is over, then it's over but while you have to do it … If anything, sex is a great stress-relief. It could be this escapist thing for y'all."

It was Hermione's turn to roll her eyes. "Oh, please. Did you not hear what I just told you? Sex is not going to relieve any stress for me, it causes stress! I freaked out at the prospect of undressing him. How will I cope with more?"

Kelsey's eyes danced as she contradicted her friend, "Um, no. You didn't freak out because the concept was so stressful, you said it was because you didn't trust yourself to stop at the line y'all agreed upon. You call it intimidation, I call it desire."

"But I don't… I mean I can't…"

"I'm not judging you," Kelsey interjected. "You can't explain it anyway, and you don't have to. It's just what we feel for somebody without any logic. It's primal. You'll just have to take it slow so you don't become overwhelmed by it or confuse it with something deeper. I know it's easy to think that spell like that matched you up for a reason, but we don't know what variables it's depending to base its matchmaking decisions on. Enjoy it for what it is, but don't think it has to be true love or something."

"I get your point. But now he must think I don't want to. I keep going over it and it looks so bad from his point of view. What if he thought I stopped because I didn't want to see him naked? What if he thinks I completely changed my mind?"

Kelsey chuckled. "Oh, girl, you are overanalyzing this. Just talk to him. You're good at that. He has no way of knowing anything that's going on in that head of yours unless you clue him in. When you come home, make him something to eat, wear something sexy, and then tell him that you're still interested, but want to work up to that with baby steps. He sounded really considerate, Hermione, he won't take it personally. I'm actually rather impressed with him after hearing what he did."

"I know," she agreed. "It's surreal to be with somebody that mature. It makes me feel rather callow in comparison."

"Well, it should. Only with age can you get that kind of wisdom and maturity."

"Yeah, but I still can't get over that. I didn't think he was like that, you know."

Kelsey snorted. "Duh! It's kind of hard to get to know that about somebody when your only social interaction is debating wage limits for house-elves. Which reminds me, we'd get better get back to work."

"Good point."

Kelsey ducked back into her cubicle.

"Oh, Kelsey?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for talking to me about this. I'd talk to Ginny but I'm not ready to see her again, and I can't talk to my mum about this either, considering how I haven't told her yet. So, thank you."

"Anytime, hon. I owe you one. You were the best help ever when I first moved here. If it wasn't for you, I'd probably be back home, driving a minivan with five kids in the back and wearing tank tops with bra straps showing."

Hermione laughed. "Is that the stereotype you're trying to avoid?"

"Stereotype? I wish! That's pretty much the norm in my hometown. You should see the funny looks I got over Christmas, it was great."

"Then I'm glad I was here to save you from your tank top fate," Hermione joked.

"I'm glad I can be your marriage counselor," she joked back.

As Hermione dove back into the piles of parchments on her desk, she actually felt optimistic about this whole thing. She still dreaded telling her parents tomorrow, but it was a relief to talk to somebody with a fresh perspective on this. Kelsey was as grounded as they come and Hermione could always count on her to tell things as they are without sugarcoating or offering empty platitudes. So she overreacted last night, but according to Kelsey it had an easy solution. Hermione just hoped it worked, otherwise, these next three years were going to feel dreadfully long.

* * *

Dinner was tricky. Without knowing somebody's tastes it was hard to decide what to prepare. Especially for one whose culinary skills were somewhat limited. Okay, very limited, if Hermione was honest with herself. After perusing everything in the kitchen, she decided on stir-fry. It was easy enough, and if he didn't like certain vegetables, he had the option of picking them out.

The outfit was another matter. Kelsey said it had to be sexy, but Hermione wasn't comfortable with that yet, so she settled on a fitted cream shirt with deep red cotton skirt. It was flattering without being overly provocative. By the time, she heard Lucius arrive, the dinning room was set and the food was getting cold.

"What is this?" he asked, looking decidedly irritated.

"It's called dinner. The meal after lunch and before breakfast," Hermione explained, folding her arms over her chest. This whole romantic dinner concept was so much easier in theory than in practice. She dropped her arms, attempting a friendlier overture. "I thought I'd make us a nice dinner. You've been really wonderful about this whole thing and I've been so ungrateful. I acted like I'm the only victim in this. Anyway, I want us to talk about some other stuff as well."

"I'm really tired. Perhaps we should do it some other time." With that Lucius swept past her without, his face distorted by discomfort and pain.

"What's the matter? Mr. Malfoy, wait! What's wrong?"

He muttered something under his breath, then swooped up the stairs. Hermione had no choice but to follow him. She found him in his bedroom, lying on the bed with heavy curtains drawn tight, even though it was already dark outside.

"Mr. Malfoy? What's going on?" she softly asked, as she tiptoed to his side.

"Migraine. I'll be fine, but as long as it lasts I can't tolerate light or scent of food," he feebly replied.

His forehead and eyes were covered with wet cloth. He looked much weaker than the formidable man who had gone head-to-head with her during so many debates.

"Do you need anything?" she asked as softly as she could manage to still be heard by him.

"No."

"I know something that may help. It will relax you and get rid of the headache at the same time."

"Fine, anything," he gave in.

"Just give me a moment." Hermione excused herself and ran to the bathroom to fetch a bottle of lavender oil.

"Do you mind if I remove your shirt?" she asked when she returned.

"But of course, now that I'm in too much pain to enjoy it, you're eager to get me out of my clothes."

"I was just so nervous. We've never done anything intimate before, and being nude together was just going a tad too fast. I suppose when you said we'd go slow, I thought you meant slow-slow."

He lifted the wet cloth off his eyes to look at her. "We can do slow-slow. It's normal to feel this way. I was nervous as well."

"You nervous? I can hardly believe it."

"You don't have to believe it, but witches like you don't fantasize about wizards old enough to have fathered them. Although I like to think that I keep myself in good shape, I'm past the age where I can inspire desire simply by tossing my shirt aside," he wearily explained.

Hermione's fingers moved over the buttons of his shirt. She thought it was very charming how he managed to be vulnerable yet confident at the same time. "I think we'd do better if we build up to it, slowly. We've got time. Besides, it'll be more authentic if we wait until our honeymoon for the ultimate act to take place."

He shrugged off his shirt and lay back down. "Oh, yes. Our honeymoon. Any ideas, darling?"

"I haven't given it much thought. Perhaps nothing too far away. Oh, your trousers too, if you please." Her hands hovered over his belt, too timid to even touch it.

"My trousers? Just what are you going to do with me?" he muttered, undoing his belt and roughly pulling them down and off.

"I just don't want to get oil all over your clothes," Hermione insisted, trying not to stare at the outline of his crotch. "Now turn on your stomach."

Uncapping the bottle of oil, she poured some into her hands and rubbed them together before lowering them to massage his neck, kneading his flesh slowly to rub away the tension. She liked the texture of his skin, so smooth, so warm, and strong. When she felt his tension start to relax, she moved down to his shoulders, pressing her palms harder into his skin, applying more pressure to the thick muscle. As Hermione continued to work on his shoulders, she felt a distinct tingle of arousal.

 _For a man who was worried about not inspiring desire by flinging off his shirt he's doing pretty well,_ she thought.

The faint scent of lavender filled the room, relaxing Hermione and distracting her from the ache she felt between her legs. She moved down to massage his left arm, very slowly working from upper area down to the fingers before repeating the same process on his right one. Lucius sighed in contentment when Hermione moved to his back, moving her fingers in small firm circles along his spine.

"This feels good," he moaned. "So good."

The oil made it too easy to glide her hands over his skin. Hermione found herself leaning almost too closely to him, her hair occasionally falling over her face to brush over him. After thoroughly tending to every inch of his back, she applied more oil to her hands and moved to the back of his legs, enjoying gliding her hands over the hard muscles of his thighs. She found herself lingering there, delighting in having the opportunity to explore his body without him being able to observe her. Lucius's quite sighs and moans subsided and she could feel him becoming tense again as she moved to the back of his knees, and down his powerful calves.

"You can turn over now," she said, her voice strangely hoarse.

"That's quite all right, Miss Granger. I feel much better now. You were right, my migraine is gone along with the tension," he replied, his own voice strangely strained.

"But I'm not finished yet."

"I'd really rather not get the oil on the sheets. I'd prefer to just lay like this until I fall asleep," he insisted.

"Oh, I can easily get the oil out. The cleaning spell gets it right off, don't you know."

He remained adamant, "Miss Granger, I'm really comfortable as it is. Thank you for your help. If you don't mind, I'd really like to get some sleep."

Hurt consumed Hermione. They seemed to be getting along so well and even gained some understanding of each other, yet he summarily dismissed her like she was a house-elf under his foot. What had she done?

Before he could see how affected she was by his dismissal, Hermione exited his bedroom and hurried off to wash the oil off her hands. Once in private, it was harder to keep the tears at bay. Was she doomed to spend this entire wretched marriage crying behind locked doors?

Perhaps it was time to take Kelsey's other advice. Perhaps seeking an appeal was the best option for now.

* * *

 **These last couple of weeks were kind of soul-draining, and your lovely messages and comments have made my day :)**

 **Thank you all so much for your support! It means more than I can say.**

 **Lots of love,**

 **Lana**


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you, dear reviewers, for your wonderful support. I'm glad you all like the story. Hope this chapter will clear up some misunderstandings, while illuminating new obstacles :)**

* * *

Hermione spent the next week interacting as little with Lucius as was possible. They decided to tell her parents on Friday, the same day that their wedding announcement would be published in the _Prophet._

Work provided ample opportunities to stay away from the Manor and keep busy. Kelsey got suddenly ill and the bulk of preparing for the important hearing on house-elf rights next Tuesday fell to Hermione, and she wanted her research notes to be as detailed as possible. Especially if Kelsey's recovery should take longer.

There was no more mention on Lucius's part of the epically failed romantic dinner, or the rest of that disastrous evening. Hermione itched to say something, but decided she could maintain her vigil of silence as long as he could. She also wanted to bring up the issue of an appeal, but decided to do that when Mr. Flynt was present next Monday for the signing of their post-nuptial contract.

When she finally arrived back to the Manor on Friday after work, her stomach was a bundle of nerves.

"Are you ready?" Lucius asked her as they got ready for dinner with her parents.

"I guess I'll never be truly ready, but it's not like we can put this off forever," she nervously said.

They drove to London in silence. Hermione practiced in her head what to say, but nothing seemed quite right. Even Lucius lost his indifferent demeanor and looked as though he wanted to the earth to swallow him whole when he turned off the ignition in front of the building Hermione pointed out to him.

She turned to him. "Mr. Malfoy, I was thinking maybe we shouldn't tell them about the spell."

"Is it because that bit of information would put the erstwhile Miss Weasley out of their good graces?" he asked in his typical sardonic tone whenever the topic of Weasleys came up.

"Not really," she answered. "It's just that I haven't told them about marriage and family laws and they may have a false hope that the match-making spell might mean that the marriage is invalid, or easy to annul or dissolve. It's going to take us years and I just don't want to give them false hope. Like we had before we talked to Mr. Flynt."

He raised his eyebrow at her. "And just what are we going to say instead?"

"That it was just an impulsive New Year's Eve decision, but just leave the spell part out of it." When she saw a skeptical look cross his face, she hurried to add, "It's just that I keep going over what to say in my head and bringing up the spell just sounds like it might derail the conversation. I don't want to spent half of the evening explaining to my parents why the magical law differentiates between love potions and match-finding spells. Then we'll have to explain about new marriage and family laws, and then we might as well owl Mr. Flynt to explain everything because the conversation will be all about laws and legal loopholes. Let's just say we've known each other for a while, which is true, and that we made a spur of the moment decision."

He looked amused now. "My, my. Aren't we economical with the truth."

She threw up her hands. "Fine. Then you tell them everything about our history together, and when they drop dead of a heart attack, you're going to take full responsibility."

"Don't be so melodramatic. It doesn't suit you."

She rolled her eyes. "How novel. A man telling a woman what suits her. You know what else doesn't suit me? Being married. I don't like it any more than you do. I'm trying to make the best out of a difficult situation, and I want to spare my parents some peace of mind in this. I know it will come as a shock, but it'll be better for them if they'll think it was my decision rather than a work of some spell. I know they won't like this, but at least they won't imagine we're being forced to be together by magic. If they think I'm forced to stay with you, they'll feel helpless trying to resolve this because there's nothing they can do. Feeling so powerless, they'll be miserable and worried. I don't want to add more anxiety into their lives than necessary."

"I see your point. I won't mention Mrs. Potter's spell work, but they will ask questions."

"Then we'll answer as honestly as we can."

"We should have spent the week crafting a love story or something," he muttered.

"Let's just get on with this," Hermione suggested, opening the door and stepping out into the cold air.

"I'm home!" she announced, forcing cheerfulness into her voice as she unlocked the door and stepped inside.

"Hermione! Sweetheart!" Her mother swept into the foyer and wrapped her in a tight hug. "How are you?"

"Fine. Mum, may I introduce Lucius Malfoy? Mr. Malfoy, this is my mother, Diane."

She put out her hand, giving him a warm smile. "Pleasure, Mr. Malfoy. Hermione mentioned she was bringing a … friend." She turned to Hermione with a questioning look. "Not that she has said much else."

If her mother thought the age of her companion was going to be the most shocking thing this evening, she was definitely going to faint at the other news.

Lucius gave Diane his most charming smile. Not that Hermione herself got to experience many of those in person.

"The pleasure is all mine. I brought a little something for the occasion," he said, reaching into a shopping bag to pull out a dark bottle of sparkling wine with a tell-tale black foil of Krug Clos d'Ambonnay.

She resisted the urge to groan. When she told Lucius not to go overboard with Krug 1928 bottle from his cellar, she thought he understood what she meant. Clearly, this was another sign that their marital communication was lacking.

Her mother's eyebrows nearly shot out of her forehead. "Thank you. This was very thoughtful of you."

Hermione almost snorted, but caught herself in time.

"So where's dad?" she casually asked, looking around.

Diane rolled her eyes. "He's watching New Year's Day match that we missed while on holiday. You know your father and football. Go on in, he can pause it for later."

Hermione motioned for Lucius to follow her into the living room.

"Who's winning, Dad?" she asked, hoping her inquiry sounded normal and not nervous.

"The damned United. I wish Wenger would buy some world-class defenders. They just keep waltzing past Mertesacker."

"He's the tall one, right?"

"Hmm."

Her voice was uneasy as she spoke, "Um, Dad, this is Lucius Malfoy. I told you earlier I was bringing someone."

As her father and Lucius shook hands and exchanged pleasantries, Hermione took a seat on the couch, her knees nearly giving out. She stared blankly at the screen as two players clashed in the midfield. A scuffle broke out, and she hoped it wasn't a sign of the things to come.

"Are you a football fan, Lucius?" She heard her father ask.

"Dad, I told you wizards don't have football," Hermione automatically supplied. "Can you … um … pause the match or something? We … um … have an announcement to make."

"Diane! We need you," her father called out.

She cringed and peeked at Lucius, hoping he had a better way to phrase their news. He simply joined her on the couch and took her hand.

 _Good. A show of unity. We need this,_ she thought.

When her mother had joined them, Hermione cleared her throat. "Well, I don't know how to tell you this. This certainly wasn't planned or anything. But we are happy with our decision and we hope you will be too, even though it may come as a surprise."

Her mother looked worried. "Hermione, what happened?" She looked uneasily between Hermione and Lucius. "You're not pregnant, are you?"

"Mum, of course not! Why would you even think that?"

"Well, I'm glad to hear that, dear. It's just when I hear the words 'unplanned' and 'surprise' with your generation, it all almost inevitably leads to the word 'baby'. I'm sorry, I know you're very responsible. Please, go on."

"On New Year's Eve, Lucius and I decided to get married. We … um … we're married." The words awkwardly tumbled out of her mouth and she nudged Lucius so he could say something to break the stunned silence.

"We realize that this is unexpected," Lucius took up, "but we have been acquainted for years and seeing each other for a while; therefore, it seemed natural to us to dispense with formalities and seize the moment. During the holiday season, we hear all sorts of sentiments about not taking the important people in your life for granted and how you start the new year is how you'll finish it, and we decided to live up to those words and start off the year with a big change in our lives. We do want to celebrate with our loved ones, of course, but wanted it to be private at first and that's why we waited to announce it."

Her mother's eyes were glistening with tears that she rapidly blinked back. "Hermione, marriage? I had no idea you were even seeing anyone. We thought when you would decide to get married that we'd be involved in all the traditional wedding planning … I can't believe this … " Her voice trailed off and she excused herself from the room.

"Mum, please," Hermione called back after her.

"Let her go, Hermione," her father said. "She's in shock. I am in shock. I know we've given you a lot of independence since you were a girl and that's because you've always shown to be responsible and level-headed. We just thought that when it came to important decisions, you'll keep us informed. Running off to get married to a man we've never met is not keeping us informed and it's far from responsible."

Her mother walked back in, a handkerchief in her hand. "Rob's right. I never claimed to be one of those parents who suffocates the child with her attentions, but you made a monumental decision and excluded us completely. It hurts, Hermione. Although I've been curious, I've respectfully stayed out of your personal life. I thought we had a good relationship and that should there be anybody special in your life that you'd tell me. I am very disappointed in you."

Hermione wanted to cry as well, but having her mother disappointed was better than feeling powerless in light of magical laws that bound them in matrimony. Better her mother think her thoughtless and reckless than miserable in a forced marriage scenario.

"Well, we didn't know it was serious," Lucius came to her aid. "Our disagreements on several political matters in wizarding society kept us from pursuing further commitment. Like I said, end of the year makes one reevaluate their priorities and we decided not to waste anymore time since another day is never guaranteed. We realize our impassive decision hurt you. We are immensely sorry it had to be like this. We do want you to be involved with wedding celebrations. I wrote to my grandmother and she'll most likely want to be in charge of certain arrangements. We know we've been awfully selfish in this and we want to rectify the matter now."

"I hardly think anyone is in the mood for celebrations. And I don't consider my daughter marrying a man old enough to be her father a joyous occasion either," Robert Granger scoffed. A vein throbbing in the middle of his forehead indicated to Hermione that he was very angry. That vein only came out on rare occasions, such as when the referee made a wrong call and his favorite team ended up playing with ten men. Or when they had an embarrassing loss against their rival in the London derby. Now she could add her marriage announcement to the list.

"Hermione, I trusted you," Diane cut in. "I thought we had a good relationship. I thought … you'd want us to be involved in major life decisions. Mr. Malfoy, you can sugarcoat this all you want, but your nice sentiments won't be enough to make me sit here and pretend I support this marriage. It's a mistake and the only thing I support about it is a divorce. I hoped better for you, Hermione. I'm hardly involved in anything in your life. I always supported your magical gifts and I've been proud of you. But sometimes it feels as though you're cutting us off more and more from your life to the point where I don't know what's going on with you. It's like you're ashamed of us…" She broke into tears again.

Her father hugged his crying wife. Hermione had never felt more wretched for inflicting so much pain on them. "Mum, it's nothing like that! I've just been busy and the magical laws do have limit on how much I expose you to. It's not me being ashamed! I have never been ashamed of you in my whole life!"

"I understand you're upset, but our marriage was not a mistake," Lucius said, rising up from his seat. "And there's nothing irresponsible about my wife. She's right. We have laws that limit Muggle exposure to our world and it's for your own benefit. Furthermore, we are not children to be lectured to. We are aware of the gravity of our decision and know what it involves." He turned to Hermione. "I think it's best if we left now."

She numbly complied. She knew they wouldn't like it, but she had never expected them to be upset like this. Hermione had never felt her failure as a daughter more than she did in that moment.

* * *

"I'm positively stuffed," Hermione said, sitting back into her seat in the Manor's dinning salon. "I don't think I can move."

"Aren't you glad I talked you into this?" Lucius asked.

This was a big improvement from last night when they got back from her parents' house and all Hermione felt like doing was wallow in her misery on the unfamiliar bed of the guest bedroom she was staying in. After spending most of the Saturday lonely and miserable, she was overjoyed when Lucius suggested a quiet dinner for two. For some reason, she assumed he wouldn't want to speak to her. Yet he surprised her a wonderful meal of tender chicken in red wine sauce complete with escargots, salad, and creme brûlée for dessert.

"Are we celebrating our one week anniversary?" she asked.

"Would that be so wrong? We deserve a celebration after a barrage of Howlers all day." Lucius was right. Their wedding announcement caused a quite a stir and there wasn't anyone of their acquaintance who didn't have an opinion about their marriage and felt entitled to voice it.

"At least Draco took it well when you told him. Is he coming back tomorrow from … Switzerland?" she prompted.

"Yes, you'll meet my grandmother as well."

"I hope Sunday's lunch will go over better than Friday's failed dinner," she said, feeling apprehensive again. "One more family gathering and I'll be diagnosed with ulcers."

Hermione rubbed her neck.

"Sore?" he asked her.

"Yes. I spent all week bent over the desk, pouring over old tomes," she admitted. "Since Kelsey got ill, I'm doing research for two."

"Come upstairs." She followed him to his bedroom and he motioned for her to sit on the bed. "Tonight," he said, lowering the straps of her dress and running his fingertips over her shoulders in light circles, "I would very much like to return the favor and help you to relax."

"Oh. I was under the impression that you didn't like what I did. You were so gruff with me." Her voice couldn't hide the hurt edge in her words.

He chuckled. "That's not because I didn't like it. In fact, one body part in particular was showing too much enthusiasm at your touch. We agreed to take things slow, and I didn't trust myself to keep that promise, if you understand my meaning."

"Oh."

"Oh, indeed. Can you move it down?" he asked, fingering her dress.

Hermione hoped she didn't look too eager as she unzipped the bodice and lowered it to her waist.

When he touched her it was pure bliss.

"You have such strong hands. This feels wonderful. Thank you," she said as his hands quickly found the knots in her shoulders. He kneaded them very softly at first, then increased the pressure slightly every few strokes.

He took his time. Hermione glanced out of the big bay window and noticed that snow had begun to fall.

"It's snowing!" she exclaimed in a breathless tone, desperate to say anything to stop any embarrassing moans from spilling forth.

Lucius didn't acknowledge her statement and moved to her back, working on a particularly tight muscle there.

As he worked on the knot with one hand, his other hand began to rub up and down her back. Gently, at first, then gradually he pressed his palm more firmly along her skin. His fingers grazed her bra straps and she couldn't help but gasp. Hermione remembered how good it felt to have him take off her bra that first night. After everything that happened all week, she wondered if they would ever get to be intimate again.

Hermione looked outside again and noticed that the snow was falling down more rapidly. The snowflakes pelting against the window and then dancing away. She moaned very lightly, as Lucius began to rub up and down her back with long strokes. Instinctively, she leaned forward to grant him full access to her back. When she did, she felt her dress dip even lower down her body, exposing the lace of her underwear to Lucius. She wondered if he liked it as he continued to stroke her up and down her spine. From her shoulder blades to her hips, Lucius allowed his fingers to gently linger and brush between the waistband of her knickers until one of his fingers gently slipped inside, grazing the skin just above her buttocks. His accidental touch sent shivers down her spine and she impulsively arched into his hands, breathing through her nose to calm her impeding whimpers. He stopped his movements.

"Is anything wrong?" he asked, grasping the top of her shoulders.

"N-nothing's wrong," she said with a giggle. "Please, continue."

As she relaxed, Lucius resumed working up and down her back. His hands fingered the hooks of her bra. "How can you wear this? Doesn't it hurt to have it dig into your skin like that?" he huskily asked.

"It's a little tight, but it's the only strapless bra I have that stays up. The rest just slide all over the place by the end of the night unless I use fashion tape," she explained, squirming a few times through his strokes.

"Would it be terribly forward of me if I took it off?" he asked. "Strictly for the purposes of the massage, not a ploy to get you naked."

Hermione could only nod in consent. He let his hands quickly unhook the clasps and Hermione felt the fabric relax around her breasts.

"That's much better," she gasped.

She could feel the blood rushing to her nipples, wondering how far he would take it. She felt this most of the night, this infusion of lust for this wizard and needed him to assuage it somehow. She knew they probably wouldn't do anything much tonight, but she needed … something … anything that would relieve this tension.

"You have such supple skin," he said, resuming his gentle rubbing motions on her back where her bra used to be.

"Thank you. This is so nice," she moaned, feeling her skin break into goosebumps at his sensuous touch.

"I'm glad I can be of service. Are you cold?" he asked, notting the obvious change in her skin texture.

"No."

She turned her head and their eyes met. She didn't need to say anything, he could see the lust in her eyes.

"Please," she said, and Lucius boldly moved his hands over the sides of her breasts. His hand lingered, and he pretended to rub her sides, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, but Hermione knew that his touches were no longer accidental. Part of Hermione was in shock how much at ease she was with him. She expected nerves of the first night to kick in at any moment. As it was, she couldn't imagine leaving the position she was in. The excitement was heavy in the air and she was so curious to see how it would all play out. She still didn't think they'd go too far, but she also knew that she wasn't going to end the night by bolting to the loo either.

"Turn around," he whispered right next to her ear.

She turned over and he helped her slide her dress off the rest of the way.

When his hands touched her legs and moved up her calves, she gasped at the pleasant sensation. He repeated the motion several times, his touches becoming firmer each time.

"I didn't know this was going to be a full body massage," she said in light tone. "I'm not sore there."

"Do you want me to stop?" Lucius asked, his voice taking on a serious timbre.

She sighed in contentment. "Not a chance," she quietly replied.

The firm ministrations on her lower leg continued. The hands – his sturdy hands – massaged expertly on every muscle, fingertips kneaded away any residual soreness. Her somnolence was receding and Hermione was becoming more alert with each sensitive touch as his hands glided higher along her body, all the way to her exposed breasts. She felt herself flush red when he reached the boundary of her aureolas. He softly traced a circle around one. When Hermione dared to steal a look at him, she saw a questioning look in his eyes. He seemed to be waiting for her to protest, to halt his exploration, but it wouldn't be forthcoming; his advances were more than welcome. After this soul-wrenching week, she wanted _something_ good to happen between them.

Deliberately licking her lips, she closed her eyes and let her head sink more into the pillow. His other hand repeated the motion on her other breast. Then he touched both of her aureolas, simultaneously flicking her nipples. She didn't attempt to hide her pleasure as she moaned and gasped at his pattern until he moved his hands down to her belly.

Hermione was almost certain he could feel the heat emanating from her knickers as he played with the lacy waistband before he smoothly slid his hands up her body to return to her breasts.

"I like how responsive you are," he said, leaning close to her ear.

Her hands reached for him, wrapping tightly around his neck and pressing him closer to her. He brushed back her lock of hair with his nose and blew teasingly onto the skin of her neck before moving up to nibble on her earlobe.

"You know for a married couple, we've not kissed yet," Hermione said, surprising herself with her audacity.

"We should definitely rectify this travesty," he whispered seductively against her ear.

He straddled her body and his hands came up to rest on each side of her head as he leaned down. Every exhale of his breath caressed her face. Her heart thundered in her chest the moment he pressed his lips to hers. He refrained from deepening the kiss, keeping it tantalizingly tender. Then the pressure rose from Hermione, as the electric fire of his kiss burned into her very soul. His tongue plunged in – touching, tasting, teasing, devouring. His kiss overwhelmed her. The burning intensified the longer he kept kissing her. Lust consumed Hermione, making her silently beg him not to stop. Her mind raced with thoughts, but they all led to one conclusion: the True Match Spell did have some merit. This oddly felt like … destiny.

Still kissing her, Lucius slid his hands across her chest, rolling both of her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers.

Gasping, Hermione broke the kiss, gulping wildly for air.

"Now, was the remedy to your satisfaction?" he murmured seductively as he continued to knead her nipples between his fingers.

She could only silently nod.

His hand moved down, his fingers circling her navel.

"Do you like to touch yourself? Do you ever make yourself come?" he asked.

"Sometimes. And I don't know. I mean it feels good, but it's just as pleasurable to read a good book or eat a decadent dessert," she admitted.

"Then what you experienced wasn't an orgasm." His voice was gentle. "Would you like to come now? Would you like me to make you come?"

Hermione bit her lip and nodded again, her vocal ability seemed to have left her.

At her nod, she felt his hand slide inside her knickers, rubbing her mound before slipping his middle finger along the length of her slick slit.

Her breath caught in her throat and her eyes fluttered shut.

"Ah, yes. I want to show you how much pleasure your body is capable of, my sweet wife," Lucius said, as he continued to slowly slide his finger up and down along her cleft before exposing her clit, encircling it with his thumb, spreading her wetness around.

"Oh … Mr. Malfoy," she clumsily uttered as her body writhed against his swirling touch. Expertly he varied the pressure before she could become too used to any specific touch, sending Hermione closer and closer towards her release. She rolled her hips up, wanting more of his exquisite torture. Just when she thought she couldn't feel any better, his middle finger easily slid inside her.

Unable to stop herself, Hermione tightened her arms around his shoulders and kissed him again. He added more fingers and moved them steadily in and out of her, as his thumb still swirled round and round.

"I love how wet you are. I have often wondered what you look like when you come," he reverently purred.

Her muscles squeezed around his fingers and Hermione felt a lightening bolt strike at her body. She grasped harder at his shoulders, needing to brace herself against the unfamiliar sensation. The sensation intensified, leaving her boneless. By the time it receded, she was left a whimpering, shaking mess.

"Brava," Lucius said, giving her a kiss on the cheek. He removed his fingers from her, and Hermione stared in awe as he licked them.

"That was amazing," she said, trying to catch her breath as her body relaxed.

"I concur," he said, smirking.

She wanted to kiss him again, but just then an owl loudly tapped at the window. Lucius got up and quickly retrieved the letter, shutting the window quickly against the cold wind and twirling snow.

"It's for you," he said, handing her the envelope.

Hermione saw the seal from her work. "It's probably about the hearing next week," she muttered, tearing it open. She wanted to get this over with so she could get back to Lucius.

As she scanned the letter, it was very obvious that it had nothing to do with hearing. In fact, it was her worst fear come true. She stared at one line, feeling herself become completely numb, her head violently spinning.

"What is it?" Lucius asked. "You look unwell."

"I don't think I'll ever be well again," she breathed out, feeling sharp razor slice at her lungs.

"What is the matter?" he insisted, leaning over to read it.

She handed him the letter. "I've been suspended. They think, and I quote, 'my new marital status presents a conflict of interest to this case' … how?" Tears filled her eyes. "I don't understand how this can be called conflict of interest. It's not like we share the same views, what does it matter?"

His hand came up to her shoulder. "Calm down. It is only temporary, yes?"

Hermione brushed off his hand. "It says indefinitely, not temporary! What if every house-elf rights or abuse case will be deemed as conflict of interest for me for the rest of our marriage? What then? This is all I ever wanted to do."

"Frankly, I find this completely disrespectful," he opined, setting the letter on the nightstand. "You'd do well to teach them a lesson by finding another situation. I can certainly help you in that respect. You are far too talented to be wasted on that ghastly place."

She shrugged on her discarded dress and glared at him. "I don't want your help, Mr. Malfoy. I want to be hired on merit, not because of some connection. And that place is not ghastly! I like working there. I feel like I'm making a positive difference, no matter how small, in the lives of disenfranchised and abused beings!"

He sighed in exasperation. "But they don't want this so-called enfranchisement! And it's not abuse. They think they deserve it for disobedience. It's in their nature. You can't change nature no matter how many pretty speeches you give on these cases."

She sniffed, turning her back to him. "That's your opinion. I just wanted this one thing because, while not popular, this is the cause I care deeply about. It was something I always wanted to do. Belittle my professional achievements all you want on any day but now."

"I'm not belittling your accomplishments. And I _am_ on your side in this."

She turned back to look at him. He looked thoroughly frustrated.

"Fantastic," Hermione said sarcastically. "Now if you don't mind, I'd really like to get some sleep." She walked towards the door as she quoted his words back to him.

Lucius looked as though he wanted to say something, but she turned away from him again and walked out.

One week down, 155 more to go. Why did it feel like every time they took a step forward in this marriage, something was hurtling them right back to square one?

* * *

 **No one said that this was going to be easy.**

 **One side of the family down, one more to go.**

 **Lana**


	6. Chapter 6

**Updated! Thank you all so very much for reading and commenting!**

 **A bit of an emotional roller coaster here :)**

* * *

Sunday was the most unproductive day Hermione had ever had. Aside from discussing her temporary leave at W.E.T.M.C. with Kelsey, she didn't accomplish much. The witch shared her feelings about the entire ordeal being unjust and reminisced about the bad timing. At her colleague's encouragement, Hermione agreed to seek legal action against the organization. Kelsey even suggested her own boyfriend's services as a civil rights attorney for this case. Hermione agreed to meet up with him on Wednesday to discuss specifics. Although cautious not to get her hopes up, she felt hopeful about her job situation for the first time since receiving that dreadful letter last night.

Lucius was out, so she spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around the house. When he arrived home, his only greeting was to remind her about tonight's dinner at his grandmother's at Wiltshire Heights.

"You have about an hour to get cleaned up," he said.

"Cleaned up? I've been in the house all day, how dirty do you think I am?" Hermione shot back, still irritated about the way things ended between them last night.

He cleared his throat. "You know what I mean."

"Whatever."

"I hate that word," he said.

Hermione rolled her eyes and left the room, purposely spending more than an hour to get ready. When she eventually emerged from her bedroom, she was surprised to find Lucius tensely bent over a document. Noticing her, he tucked it away and gave her a brief once over.

"You're not properly attired," he remarked.

"It's the most proper dress I own," Hermione said defensively, fingering the hem of her wool dress. What could possibly be wrong with it?

"You're not wearing any jewelry," Lucius explained. "My grandmother is keen on tradition, which dictates that a lady of your status should not be bare at dinner."

She held up her hand. "I am wearing jewelry. If it's such a taboo, I'll just let down my hair, so my ears won't show."

He sneered. "That will not do. Wait here." Lucius left the room.

When he returned, he had a velvet drawstring bag with him. He turned it over, and two teardrop dangle emerald earrings gleamed in his palm. Hermione gasped at the beauty of the gems.

"They're so lovely," she breathed out in admiration.

They walked to the mirror and she put them on. The weight of them felt foreign to her. She hardly ever wore any jewelry as extravagant as this before.

As she stared at the reflection of them in the mirror, Hermione wondered what it would be like if this was a real romance … if right now she was meeting his family because it was a natural progression in their relationship, not because their accidental nuptials warranted the occasion. Tears sprang to her eyes and she looked away. This whole situation was probably more unbearable for him.

He touched her chin. "Are you crying?"

"No," she tersely replied, jerking her face away from him.

"Ready?"

She nodded.

The short ride to his grandmother's estate was filled with tension. Something greatly troubled Lucius by the way he clenched his jaw and curled his hands into fists. Hermione wanted to ask him about it, but his cold stares and demeanor were too intimidating for her.

His maternal grandmother, Odette Swancombe, cordially greeted them when they arrived.

"Well, it's about time, Lucius. You don't visit enough," the elderly witch gently admonished her grandson. "As I've aged, I've become invisible to society."

"Grandmaman, you are never invisible to me," Lucius returned with a small smile.

"Not so visible to be invited to the wedding, I see." She turned to Hermione, looking her over with the aid of her lorgnette. "Is this your young bride?"

"Yes." He turned to introduce her, "This is Hermione Granger."

"And how old are you?"

"Twenty-two, ma'am," she politely responded.

"Excellent age," the grandmother pronounced. "Perfect age for marriage and childbearing. I am glad you managed to convince this stubborn mule to change his mind. With Draco securing the Malfoy line and inheritance, I always intended for Swancombe Mellow to go to his second son."

"Grandmaman, I've explained the circumstances of our marriage to you. You must not set your hopes up too high with respects to future grandchildren."

She shook her head in dismissal. "That spell is nonsense. If it was so effective, everyone would use it and divorce rates would be much lower. Come, have a sit. It looks as though Draco will be fashionably late, if he can't be fashionable."

They took their seats in a lovely reception area, where a house-elf offered them hors d'oeuvres and drinks. Hermione felt relieved that she didn't have to contribute much to the conversation as Lucius and his grandmother discussed local gossip and mutual acquaintances.

The loquacious witch turned her piercing blue eyes onto Hermione and said, "I was sorry to hear about your forced leave of absence. When Lucius told me, I was indignant."

Hermione was filled with gratitude. "Thank you, ma'am. I have spoken to a friend who will help me seek appropriate course of action."

Mrs. Swancombe looked at Lucius. "Since Lucius has written to me of this marriage, I have taken the liberty of discussing the matter with Amos myself." She picked up a stack of parchments on the little table near her. "I don't know if he had discussed it with you already, but you both should look this over." She handed the parchments to both Lucius and Hermione.

Skimming over the documents, Hermione expected some kind of post-nuptial agreement, but they agreed to meet with Mr. Flynt about it on Monday. What she was reading now nearly made her laughed out loud. "This is completely absurd. You want us to stay married?" She looked at Lucius. "And you knew about this?"

"I found out this morning when Amos explained it to me," he said.

"Not indefinitely. I simply think it best if you two stay married for five years instead of three. Both of you have reputations to protect. A drunken wedding where you both waited the minimum number of years to dissolve would be detrimental to you both. A marriage of five years looks much more respectable than some three year fiasco you've foolishly agreed upon."

Hermione looked over the rest of the contract that discussed terms of divorce, which barred her from inheriting the bulk of his wealth. It seemed fair enough considering how she wasn't bringing much into it. After five years, she'd be granted a generous amount, excluding any gifts and assets he may give her during the marriage. There was even a provision for her to receive an allowance from him while she remained his wife.

"Well?" the witch asked them both after a long silence. "Is this agreeable?"

Hermione turned to glance at Lucius, who avoided her eyes. "Do you agree with this?" she asked him.

"Lucius understands that this will be best for our family name," Odette answered for her grandson.

"To be honest, if the law deems three years appropriate, why should it matter? I don't see how five over three is more 'respectable'. What am I missing?" Hermione asked with a demanding tone.

"These last few years made our family name look weak and irrelevant. Bring some stability to it. Longer marriage equates with stability. The other option makes it look as though you're hens waiting for the right time to drop an egg." The witch paused dramatically. "It's up to you, but look at it logically. Hermione, your livelihood was affected by this marriage. Now you can sign this document and benefit financially from these inconvenient circumstances, no matter what the outcome of your future case may be. Or you can stay married for three years and walk away with nothing."

Lucius look at her then and Hermione was unable to pinpoint the expression in his eyes.

"So you're really okay with this?" she addressed him. "We'll be married for five years and it won't bother you?"

"If Grandmother thinks it's best for the family, then I have no qualms with it."

"I'll have another solicitor look over it before I sign," Hermione said. "If I decided to sign, that is."

The elderly woman grinned. "I wouldn't expect anything less of you, Hermione Granger. You are a witch after our own hearts."

"Five years is a lot of time out of someone's life," Hermione remarked in response.

"So is three," her husband returned.

She rolled her eyes at him.

"Don't think about it too long. If you agree, I'll need to you to sign this Gringotts form, so you can have access to my vault," Lucius casually remarked.

Hermione gawked at him. "Are you serious? That doesn't sound very wise."

"Contrary to the popular belief, I'm not an idiot. You will have a limit placed on your withdrawals. But it will look like you are truly my wife with equal access to my assets. You do remember we're trying to make this farce of a marriage appear real?" His tone dripped with hauteur.

Before she could make a caustic remark back, a letter flew from the fireplace straight into Lucius's hands. Hermione recognized it as an international priority post.

"I presume it's from my great grandson," Mrs. Swancombe chuckled. "No doubt that young man has found more exciting things to do than have supper with us."

Hermione watched as Lucius's face crumpled when he read the letter.

"What's the matter?" she asked him.

"Draco's gone missing. He was skiing with his friends in the Alps and he didn't come back after their last run."

* * *

They returned immediately home that evening, making plans to go to Switzerland the next day.

"How are you doing?" Hermione tentatively ventured to ask him when Lucius finished his fire call with the owner of the ski chalet where Draco stayed.

"As well as can be expected," Lucius replied, gulping down another tumbler of firewhisky.

"We don't know anything definite. You can't let yourself think the worst. It'll drive you mad." Her poor attempt at comforting him fell flat.

A sneer plastered across his features. "I don't need your platitudes now. You're not my real wife anyway, so this doesn't concern you," he snarled.

Hermione felt a little hurt by his words. She opened her mouth to say something else, but he cut her off.

"Just leave me! Get out!"

His raised voice frightened her. In all of her life she had never heard him speak in such tone … had never heard him yell like that.

She could only obey him. If he wanted space, she was happy to give it to him. To distract herself, Hermione tried to pack, then got ready for bed. However, she felt too restless to retire. Tossing and turning on the bed, she couldn't get comfortable. Her mind raced over the contract and Draco's disappearance. She had never felt more useless in a crisis. Looking at the earrings in her hand, she decided to tackle on problem at a time. All that mattered was finding Draco. Their marital arrangements could wait.

Resolute in her decision, Hermione worked up enough nerve to walk to his room. She could see the light beneath the door. He, too, was awake. Before she could change her mind, she knocked.

"What?" came a slurred response.

She opened the door a bit and peered in.

Lucius was sitting by the fireplace in his dressing gown. His hair mussed, the silver strands glistening in the firelight. Hermione noticed a half-empty bottle of firewhisky stood on a table beside him. She frowned at the sight. It was a pet peeve of hers when people used alcohol to drown out their worries instead of just talking about them. It's not as though solution could be found at the bottom of any bottle, so why do it?

He continued to stare at the flickering flames as she approached him.

"What do you want?" he asked without looking at her.

She held up her earrings. "I-I came to return these."

"They're yours."

"I can't … I can't accept them. I thought you were just loaning them to me."

 _In order for them to be a gift, they have to be given as one,_ she wanted to say.

Slowly, she placed the jewels on the table and reached for the bottle. "I'll just take this back."

"Leave it," he warned.

"You shouldn't drink so much, especially with your headaches."

Grabbing her arm, he glared at her. "You don't tell me what to do."

"I do if you're taking unnecessary risks with your life," she quipped back, trying to twist her arm out of his grip.

He sneered again. "Well, being a widow would solve all of your problems."

Before she could stop herself, Hermione's hand came up to slap him hard across his cheek. Tears sprang to her eyes.

"You don't get to talk to me like this! Whether you like it or not, we're all each other has and if you … if you …" She was so angry at his cavalier attitude she couldn't even finish her thought.

His eyes aglow, he stood up and shoved the table aside, sending the contents flying in all directions. Yanking her to him, he kissed her in desperation, his tongue thrusting hungrily against hers. His kisses became rougher, more urgent. His hand fisted into the hair at the nape of her neck, holding her tightly to him. He left her mouth to trail hot, open mouthed kisses down her neck, nibbling and sucking the skin as he went. Hermione gasped and as he sucked on a particularly sensitive bit of skin. She felt like she was burning up. Her whole body flushed and a fine sheen of sweat coated her skin. Lucius's tongue danced across her collarbone before moving lower to the upper swell of her right breast. He nipped her skin with his teeth, leaving red marks all over the top of her breast. He moved to the left one to pay it the same lavish attention. Lucius ripped away the front of her nightgown from the mounds of flesh before him.

Before Hermione could object to his actions, she was suddenly lifted and carried to the bed, then thrown down onto the soft mattress. She felt him tear the rest of her nightgown away from her, exposing her completely to him. Something moist probed at her entrance before plunging deep inside. Hermione cried out at the discomfort of being stretched. Physically, it felt uncomfortable as ever; however, she understood that his lovemaking came from a need for comfort and she wanted to provide this comfort for him _―_ no matter how it made her feel. To ease her pain, she tried to take deep breaths and spread her legs wider.

"Am I hurting you?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"No." She gulped.

"You feel incredible," Lucius complimented her and slammed so sharply into her that Hermione almost feared he might break her.

The bed creaked loudly with each thrust as he drove his cock deeper inside her. His mouth came down to hers, giving her a kiss so lacerating that her lips felt numb. His mouth moved down, sucking furiously on the flesh of her neck. Gone was the teasing, seductive lover of previous nights. Tonight, he was a raging beast.

After several thrusts, he roughly turned her over. In this position, the tip of his cock relentlessly stimulated her g-spot. Without thinking, she pressed back against him, thrust for thrust. Lucius grabbed her hips and drove ruthlessly into her. His grip was so hard that Hermione was sure he'd bruised her.

"I won't last long." His voice was hoarse over the sounds of their slapping flesh, as their movements became more frenzied and uneven.

Hermione felt her inner walls quiver around his pounding cock. Her body neared her peak, but she couldn't find her way over. Soon she was begging and pleading with him. His fingers encircled her clit, only he didn't tease her like last night; he squeezed instead until the thin line that separated pain from pleasure blurred completely and he stopped. His thumb returned and swirled around the hypersensitive bud in slow, but firm circles. It was enough as Hermione howled out her orgasm. The force of it was stronger than yesterday's and she was sure the bliss of it momentarily blinded her.

"I like making you scream," Lucius managed to say in rhythm to his powerful thrusts. Hermione could only whimper in response as the aftershocks continued to shake her. He hissed as her inner walls tightened around him.

When his pounding increased, she grasped at the bed sheets for wizard behind her let out a litany of curses as he stiffened and Hermione felt his hot seed spilling into her in strong spurts. She shuddered at the sensation. Even though she had religiously used contraception to prevent pregnancy and infections, she never allowed anyone to come inside her. It was kind of naughty … and hot.

Slowly, she rocked her hips against his, trying to prolong the immense pleasure of their bodies sliding and pressing against each other. His hand fisted in her hair and jerked her head back, crashing his mouth upon hers. His other hand moved away from her clit to fondle her breast.

He released her and turned her around to face him again, pushing her back against the pillows.

This was it. Their marriage was officially consummated … and Hermione had never felt so debauched in her life.

As she was drifting off, she felt Lucius gently kiss at her throat as he continued to fondle her body. Was he really not finished with her?

He moved away from her, then returned. His hands spread her legs again, and she gasped in shock when she felt him coat her with some kind of lubricant. It felt cold at first, then warm. She imagined it was meant to be soothing, but she was beyond caring about herself. This was about him and although she'd experienced some pleasure out of this, Hermione decidedly took her needs out of the equation.

He rammed into her again, filling her so deeply with his thick cock that she yelped in pain. She clutched at the bedsheets again as he pounded in and out of her. His hair tickled her chest as he leaned over her to give her another one of his biting kisses. He slowed down, then sped up again. This time he came noiselessly with only a tremulous exhale, soaking her inner thighs with his pearl release before collapsing on top of her.

Hermione lay beneath him, wildly panting. Her hands moved to his tangled locks.

"I … apologize," he gasped out. "It should not have happened this way."

"You have nothing to apologize for. I wanted this," she assured him, stroking his hair.

She felt him smile into the side of her neck.

"You are too forgiving. You should hate me."

She throbbed in post-coital soreness. "No, Lucius. I don't. Don't say such things." Her arms tightened around him, preventing him from moving.

"Tell me all will be well," he softly commanded her.

Her voice cracked, betraying her emotions. "All will be well. We'll get through this. Together."

"Together?"

"Yes. Together."

If he said anything else, Hermione couldn't hear it for she was already sleeping.


	7. Chapter 7

**Updated at last! Apologies for the wait.**

 **As usual, all characters belong to J.K. Rowling.**

* * *

When Lucius and Hermione strode through the ski patrol office the next day on Enchanted Peaks resort, two witches had already gathered there. Hermione recognized them immediately as Narcissa Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson.

"Granger? What are you doing here?" Pansy spat out when she spotted Hermione.

"I'm here with my husband," she coolly replied, glancing at Lucius.

"Your _husband_?" Pansy snorted. "Is this a joke?"

If Narcissa Malfoy was surprised by the news, she didn't show it, her face was etched with worry of another kind.

"Lucius, they said there was an avalanche when Draco was skiing on the Suicide Run," she told her ex-husband. "The entire run was closed off due to weather conditions, but they didn't listen."

"What was he doing on it?" Lucius barked, looking at Pansy. His eyes alight with fury. "Why on earth would he get it into his head to ski on such an atrociously named trail?"

Tears flowed down Pansy's eyes. "It was a bet. A stupid bet," she admitted. "Suicide Run is a double black diamond and whoever lost our bet was supposed to ski it. Draco lost the bet and when I tried to convince him to postpone it until the weather got better, he refused!"

"What is this double black diamond?" former Mrs. Malfoy asked.

"Trust the word 'diamond' to pique your interest," Lucius muttered under his breath.

"It's an experts-only run on the slopes. A regular black diamond is difficult even for good skiers, but a double black diamond is even harder," Hermione explained. "Suicide Run is at the top of the mountain and is considered to be the most dangerous and difficult run on Enchanted Peaks."

"Know-it-all," Pansy mumbled.

Hermione ignored the witch.

Lucius turned to look at her. "How do you know this?"

"I've read the tourist guidebook about Enchanted Peaks on the way here," Hermione answered. "There's even a map of all the runs and trails. Besides, I've been skiing with my parents since I was very young."

"So he was caught in an avalanche on the most dangerous part of the mountain. That's just perfect," Narcissa summed up. "Pansy, I thought you were a good influence on my son. I thought you were someone who could make him stop with the childish antics. It's blatantly obvious now that I was wrong. All you do is encourage his foolishness and now he's out there in the cold, injured or worse! From now, your liaison is over. Do you understand? I never want to see you near him ever again."

Pansy wailed at her words.

"Now, now, folks, don't get worked. It's important to stay calm in these situations," came a voice from one of the ski patrol guys, who hovered over the maps on the table.

"Who are you?" Lucius imperiously demanded.

He gave him a friendly smile and extended his hand. "I'm Scott Albright, head of the ski patrol. We'll find your son, sir. I'm from the Rockies, we used to handle those situations all the time over winter and spring breaks."

Lucius didn't shake the man's hand, even after Hermione stealthily nudged him in the ribs.

She placed her own hand in Scott's and shook it. "Hermione Granger. I'm a member of the family. We came as soon as we heard."

"Nice to meet you. As I said, these situations occur often on the mountains. It's very important not to panic and not to assume the worst. Like I told your father, we'll find your brother."

Hermione flushed and shook her head as she indicated to Lucius. "He's not my father. I'm his wife. Not his first one … I mean I'm not Draco's mother, obviously. I'm the second wife," she found herself blabbing.

Lucius glared at the young man.

"My apologies," Scott said with a smile. "I just assumed. Anyway, we have a search party out looking. If he's out there, they'll find him."

"Search _party_ ," Narcissa mused. "What an inappropriate term. I can't stop thinking that he's cold, hungry, and hurt."

Lucius wrapped his arm around his former wife. It was a simple, comforting gesture and yet it prompted a burst of jealousy from Hermione.

"He's an excellent skier, Cissa. He's not injured. He's a smart boy, he's probably found shelter," Lucius said.

Through her tears, Pansy spoke again, "He will be hungry though by the time they'll find him. Maybe we should throw him a welcome-back party?"

"That's not a bad idea," Hermione said.

"I'm not in the mood for any party," Narcissa snapped back. "And neither is anyone else."

"It won't be for us," Pansy pointed out. "It'll be for Draco. He's always in the mood for a party. It'll be fun. At least, it'll cheer us up."

"Oh, shut up, you idiot!" Draco's mother snapped at her as she lowered herself gracefully onto her discarded parka on the vinyl couch. "You don't plan a party until the guest of honor can be sure to make it!"

Lucius took a seat next to his ex-wife. "Miss Parkinson, a party is not going to cheer anyone up. We just want Draco back. He's been gone for almost twenty-four hours."

"She was just trying to help," Hermione said, annoyed that she had to come to Pansy Parkinson's defense. "It's a much better idea than sitting around snipping at each other."

"She's done enough!" Narcissa pronounced. "I want her out of here!"

Pansy tried to protest, but wishes of a mother trumped girlfriend's laments, and Pansy was escorted out to the tram, back to the chalet she shared with Draco.

Hermione took off her parka and squirmed to sit next to Lucius, watching Scott and ski patrol go over search areas on their large maps of the Enchanted Peaks. The hum of the room was occasionally punctured by the bursts of static from the radio on Scott's desk. Being 9,000 feet high was beginning to affect Hermione as she fought dizziness and waves of nausea. She never complained though and stubbornly remained by Lucius's side, her earlier bout of jealousy still churned within her. Scott Albright was professional and nice though. He picked up on her altitude sickness and offered her everything from tea to juice to biscuits to help her keep her strength.

By evening, two search parties came back with no news on Draco.

Scott crossed off two areas on the map and turned to the anxious parents. "The good news is that he wasn't anywhere where avalanche hit the worst. We'll prepare another rescue party to be ready to go tomorrow at dawn."

"Dawn?" Lucius raised his voice. "He could be dead by then."

"They can't continue the search in the dark, Lucius," Hermione said in a soothing voice, placing a hand on his shoulders.

"It has already been one night. We cannot leave him out there for another! This is insupportable!" he railed at Scott.

"This side of the mountain has about a dozen small cabins in case of avalanches. They are equipped with essential survival supplies. Perhaps he made it to one of them when the storm came in. When the rescue crew is unable to find someone, it's usually because the missing person has found shelter."

Narcissa narrowed her eyes. "Usually? How comforting."

The three Malfoys remained at the ski patrol station, watching the crew finalize search plans for the following morning. Suddenly static erupted from the radio and a familiar voice came from it, "Can anybody hear me? Please respond."

Lucius leapt to his feet. "That's Draco! That's my son."

A sound of great relief escaped from Narcissa's lips as she joined her ex-husband next to the radio.

Scott spoke into the microphone, "Draco Malfoy? This is ski patrol. Can you tell us your location?"

"Draco, are you hurt?" his mother asked, leaning over Scott.

"Mother! No, I'm not hurt, I'm…" His next words were lost in a buzz of static, then the sound faded and the radio was silent.

"What happened?" Lucius frantically demanded.

Scott turned the knobs, but there was nothing. "Upcoming storm must be interfering with communication equipment. The meteorologists predict a storm this week, but it's not supposed to hit until tomorrow night. At least we know that he's well. He's found the radio, which means he did find shelter in one of the avalanche cabins."

"But which one?" Narcissa demanded in frustration.

"There's no way to tell," Scott admitted, looking at the map. "We'll start another search tomorrow by the cabins that are in the proximity where he was last seen, and go from there."

"Tomorrow?" Lucius raised his voice. "I'm not leaving him out there all night!"

Hermione tried to pacify him. "Lucius, it's too dangerous to search for anybody after dark, much less with another storm coming. No ski patrol will do that. No one can, especially not with a storm coming."

In one quick motion he zipped up his parka and flipped the hood over his head. "And I didn't make myself clear: I'm not leaving my son out there. If worthless ski patrol won't help me tonight, I'll go find him myself."

He charged out the office into the twilight outside. Hermione ran after him, but stopped short when the frigid air hit her. In her rush, she left her parka inside, but she wasn't about to let Lucius get lost on the mountain either. She gripped her jumper tight about her as she called for him to return. The wind whipped harshly against her, burning every inch of exposed skin.

Scott ran after her, his hands were on her shoulders. "Hermione, get back inside. I'll talk to him."

She nodded, grateful for his kindness and returned to the cabin. To her relief, Lucius soon joined her and Narcissa. Scott came up to drape a blanket around her shoulders and handed her a steaming cup of tea.

"Don't drink it too fast," he told her gently.

"Thanks," she murmured.

She noticed Lucius glaring at Scott again and he protectively put his arm about her.

"Who the hell does he think he is?" he said under his breath.

Hermione let the warmth from the mug seep into her hands. "He's just being nice." She took a deep breath, not wanting to sound argumentative, but needing him to see reason. "Lucius, I know you want to find Draco tonight, but it's not possible. He is safe for the night. You can't just run out into an area you know nothing about and expect to find him. I don't want you to do something rash and then end up with two missing persons on this mountain instead of one."

Lucius scoffed. "Nice my arse. My son is missing and all this clown wants to do is flirt with my wife."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "He was not flirting with me. I know you're upset about Draco, as would any concerned parent, but let's not read too much into anyone's actions."

"Oh, really?" He mimicked Scott's American accent as he spoke, "We had situations like this in the Rockies all the time. I can bench press 250. Oh, would care for some tea and cookies? Maybe you should sit on my lap to get warmed up."

She softly laughed at his impersonation. "You're being ridiculous. He's just being nice because of my altitude sickness. He grew up on the mountains, so he probably feels sorry for tourists like me. And who cares if he really is flirting? Not only is it in bad taste, but I'm _your_ wife, remember? I'm not going to be unfaithful, especially not during a family crisis. But thanks for trusting me. You're the one who can't keep your hands off your ex."

"That's preposterous!" He sneered. "All I've done is comfort the mother of my missing child. There was nothing amorous in my intentions, unlike some people's."

"Oh, come off it! Scott is only being professional."

"Not professional enough."

Hermione was too fatigued to argue with him and closed her eyes against another wave of lightheadedness.

"You should go back to the chalet and rest," Lucius suggested. His tone was much less hostile now.

"The next tram to the resort leaves in half an hour," Scott said, coming to her side. "It's probably a good idea for everyone to get some rest."

"I will do no such thing!" Narcissa insisted. "I can't go back now. What if Draco is still trying to make contact? I'm staying right here!"

"Then I'm staying too," Lucius said. "I want to be here if he manages to message again."

Scott looked uneasy, but agreed, "All right. Normally, I'm not allowed to do this, but in this case I don't see the harm. In the back office, there's a pull-out couch that you can sleep on."

Hermione's heart sank. Was she supposed to just be okay that her husband was going to be spending the night with his ex?

She had little choice in the matter, apparently, as no one consulted her.

Lucius turned back to her. "You should get some sleep. I know this wasn't easy on you."

"Okay," she agreed, wanting to tell him something else, but he already turned back to the radio, probably willing Draco's voice to come through it again. Hermione found herself disappointed that he didn't try to kiss her good night or offer any affectionate gesture. He didn't even seem to show slightest concern when Scott volunteered to escort her back.

* * *

The next day everyone seemed to have had a restless night. They spent majority of the day inside ski patrol office while the search parties went out. Lucius paced from one end of the office to another.

"What time is it?" Narcissa asked him.

He glanced at his watch. "Fifteen minutes since the last time you asked," he replied.

"It's already dark, why aren't they back yet?" the older witch asked, delicately rubbing her temples.

"If they're all the way on Suicide Run where the avalanche struck, it's probably really rough out there. Maybe it's taking them a lot longer to cover projected area," Hermione quietly offered.

"If he had his wand with him—" the blonde lamented.

Lucius interrupted her. "We've been over this: the terms of his wager with Miss Parkinson excluded forms of magic. That's why he doesn't have it with him. It has nothing to do with his judgement!"

"I didn't imply that it was. I'm only saying _if_."

Fortunately, the door burst open and a gust of freezing wind buffeted the room. Scott and several of his crew flooded into the room and slammed the door behind them. Hermione rushed to pour him a cup of tea.

"Did you find him?" Narcissa asked before Scott could take a seat.

He ruefully shook his head. "It's getting rapidly worse out there," he told the anxious group. "We couldn't even get anywhere near that side of the mountain. The ridge is too unstable and with this upcoming blizzard, another avalanche could occur at any minute."

The worried mother nearly sobbed. "But you know where all the cabins are on the maps, can't you go to all of them until you find Draco?"

Scott looked crestfallen. "We tried. Most of them are cut off. We tried to approach them from different routes, but the ridge is impassable at this point."

"Well, I don't care how you do it, you have to do it! You have to find my son!" Narcissa sobbed. Lucius put his arms around her and gently stroked her back.

Biting back another bitter taste of jealousy, Hermione spoke to stricken Scott, "I know you're doing everything you can. We don't mean to sound ungrateful. It's just that even if he's in a cabin, this blizzard is going to be pretty bad and we don't know what kind of supplies he has to help him weather the storm until he's rescued."

"If the weather conditions permit, tomorrow morning we can try to do an aerial search. It's the only way to get to that part of the mountain," Scott said.

"We'll come with you," Lucius announced.

"I can't allow that," Scott told him, looking apologetic.

"I can't spend another day like this!" Narcissa declared.

"You're not hearing me. I'm either coming with you or I'm going by myself on skis. Either way, I'm going and there's nothing you can do to stop me," the wizard said in a chilling tone that made it clear his decision wasn't debatable.

Scott swallowed. "It's against the rules, but it's better than attempting anything yourselves. You can join me tomorrow. Get some rest tonight and meet us here at seven sharp."

They all left to take the tram back to chalet. The dinner between the trio was predictably sullen and tense. Soon afterwards, Hermione retired to bed but restlessness continued to wake her up repeatedly through the night. Having difficulty falling back asleep, she paced in the room. She wished she had something to read besides Enchanted Peaks brochures. She walked to the window. Under the dark sky, snow flakes fluttered softly to the ground. Hermione instantly felt guilty. At the top, where Draco was stranded, there was probably no gently snowfall, but a blizzard with near-freezing temperatures. Poor Draco was all struggling to survive, and here she was spending the last two days selfishly concerned over his father's affections for his ex-wife. This was a living nightmare for them both, and Hermione felt like the worst person on the planet for wishing for little things, like to be able to share a room with her husband. There were more important concerns right now, but that's all she wanted: to just be in the same room with Lucius. She wanted to be the one to comfort him, to make him feel better, not Narcissa.

Feeling nauseated again, she decided to get a glass of water. On her way to the kitchen, she saw a lit fireplace in the living room. Through the sound of crackling firewood, muddled voices could be heard.

 _Lucius and Narcissa must be still up,_ Hermione surmised, feeling a tad relieved that she wasn't the only one having trouble sleeping. She poured herself a glass of water and walked in to join them, but blanched at the sight before her: Lucius stood in the center of the room, his arms around his ex-wife, his lips against hers.

Hermione was so shocked, she barely registered it when the glass slipped from her hand and crashed to the floor, spraying its shards all around her.

"Hermione!" he exclaimed, his face turning red.

She shook her head in disbelief and ran back to her bedroom. Lucius hurried after her, but she didn't want to talk to him; she could even bear to look at him as she slammed her bedroom door soundly behind her. The violence of her feelings surprised Hermione. Theirs wasn't a love match. There were no such feelings between them. They had never even discussed their stance on fidelity, so he owed her nothing and yet … she wanted to howl with hurt and anger. Feeling sick to her stomach, she ran to the loo, nearly blinded by her tears. She made it just in time.

As she was washing up her hands, Hermione looked at her reflection in the mirror over vanity. She looked awful. Her skin was pale and covered with a sheen of sweat and her eyes were bloodshot. To make matters worse, scarlet drops of blood dripped from her nose. Hermione couldn't even remember the last time she was upset enough to vomit _and_ get a nosebleed.

More tears burst from her.

She didn't realize why she was crying so hard over Lucius Malfoy. Was it simply because they slept together? Bitter foe, thorny opposition, charming acquaintance, accidental husband, attentive lover — he always played some role in her life. It was as though she couldn't be without him in her life, in one way or another.

Still, she could fall apart like this over him. He wasn't worth it.

Holding a cold washcloth to her nose, she sank to the floor and buried her face in her knees. Was she doomed to spend the next three years crying in the loo over him?

 _He wasn't worth it … wasn't worth it…_ Hermione repeated to herself over and over.

But it still hurt.

* * *

 **Thoughts? Reactions?**


	8. Chapter 8

**Many thanks to all of you for sharing your opinions. I love knowing your reactions. I know we all want to stab Lucius in the throat, but he has an explanation … not a good one but ...**

* * *

Hermione tried to block out the pounding on her bedroom door. She covered her ears as Lucius continued to plead with her to listen from the other side of the door.

"Just let me explain," Lucius raised his voice from the other side of the door.

"Leave me alone! There's nothing to explain! I'm not your real wife, so you don't owe me any explanations!" Hermione yelled back.

Her body turned to ice at the image of what she had witnessed an hour earlier flashed before her eyes again. Angry tears welled up in her sore eyes. She didn't know it was possible to cry so much.

She nearly screamed in shock when she felt a hand on her shoulder, dropping the bag in her hands. Hermione whipped around to see that it was Lucius, looking thoroughly chastened.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she snarled at him, stooping to pick up her duffel.

His gaze fell to her bag. "Wait … are you going somewhere?"

"Of course, I am," she coldly said. "I understand clearly what's going on. I'm not as naive as you seem to think."

He looked flustered. "This is ridiculous! Where will you go in the middle of the night?"

"To Enchanted Peaks lodge until I can book a train back. I'll sleep in the lobby if I have to, but I am not going to stay under this roof."

As she yanked the zipper closed, she could sense him looming over her, closer than before.

"Hermione, calm down. Let me explain," he said.

"Explain what?" Her voice sounded distraught to her ears. "H-how you humiliated me? I know we didn't marry for romantic or dynastic reasons. I know that it was Ginny's meddling, but … but did you have to … right under my nose? How could you? Especially after I … after we …"

He looked bewildered. "Hermione, I didn't betray you. Do you honestly believe her actions were wanted?"

She threw him a look of sheer loathing. "How else can you explain her tongue down your throat?"

The wizard had the audacity to smirk at her words. "Believe me, there was no tongue involved." His expression turned serious once more as he hastily added, "I didn't encourage her, I promise you. She was distraught and came to me for comfort. She was highly emotional and all I did was hold her to calm her down. I had no idea she would misinterpret my platonic gesture to mean something more. _She_ was the instigator of this. I was merely too surprised to react. By no means did I ever return her advances."

Hermione wanted to believe him. The betrayal she felt was too painful, too unbearable. She only wanted her pain to stop, to disappear as though it never were. But she couldn't command her feelings. Something precious had broken inside her and none of his explanations came close to making reparations.

Rage dominated her tone as Hermione spoke to him, "Wow, am I to believe that you were so helpless that you couldn't defend yourself against those unwanted attentions? Do you know what happens when someone tries to kiss me without my consent? I turn my head away. I don't kiss them back out of politeness."

He took a step closer to her and she pushed at his chest, moving past him to the middle of the room.

"I told you, it was sudden. Then I thought she'd get the hint that her actions were unwanted if I remained unresponsive. I could have used physical force to stop her, but I didn't want to shame her for her moment of weakness. Or habit, or whatever else it was that caused her to do this. I doubt any genuine longings for me drove her to it, so I just didn't react. This incident is most meaningless. If you hadn't come upon us in that moment, you'd never have known and it's not something that would have ever been repeated. It would be just an embarrassing moment that neither party would have thought about by morning."

"You're right. I never would have known because you'd never have told me. Ignorance is such bliss." She turned to walk towards the door, but he caught her arm.

"Why should I upset you over nothing?"

"It's not nothing to me! I'm not a wilting violet that you have to protect from the truth. If it's truly as insignificant as you say, then you don't need to hide it from me. If Scott, or any other man, had caught me by surprise like that and you had walked in right in the middle of it, you'd be singing a different tune and you know it!"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Fair enough. I can understand how untoward it must have looked … but must you leave over one misunderstanding? It's not as though I did it out of my own volition with malicious intentions."

Too tired to argue anymore, Hermione set her bag down. "In the morning I'm still leaving for the lodge. With the bad weather coming soon, I don't know when I'll be able to take the next train home, but I can't stay here."

"Then I'm going to the lodge with you," he said with firm resolve.

"It's not a good idea. I really need some time to myself to think things over," she said.

"Think what over?" His voice was full of frustration.

"This … us … whatever it is we're trying to make work here … it's not … working." Hermione was too exhausted to coherently string her thoughts together.

He looked incredulous. "Over this? Over one unwanted kiss?" He shook his head in disbelief. "You're acting as though I willing committed infidelity under your roof. You realize, of course, that this won't speed up the divorce proceedings."

"I know that. It's not why … I just … I don't want to be in this sort of marriage for the next three years. I'd rather then stay married in name only for that long and pay whatever penalty fine the Family Council will issue for living separately during that time," Hermione concluded.

Lucius looked as though he'd eaten something sour. "And you've just now decided this? How convenient."

"Not now, but I've been thinking about this since we arrived here," she confessed.

"Why?"

"Because I was rather stupid to take on your offer of sexual exploration when I never thought about emotional aspects of it," Hermione explained to Lucius. "I discovered that I can't play house and sleep with a man and not end up developing feelings for him, despite my best intentions not to. More importantly, this marriage cost me my job and possibly my family, and for what? To be constantly told I'm not the real wife?" She held up her hand when he looked as though he wanted to say something. "When we first found out that we've married, I panicked. You were the one who kept your wits about you and took steps to rectify our situation. Even though it wasn't an ideal position to find ourselves in, your assertiveness made me feel better about it. I felt like for once in my life, I don't have to have all the answers and I don't have to bear the burden of fixing things. It was out of our hands and we had to just weather it together. But then … we faced our first crisis and you pushed me away like I was this … complication in your life."

"I might as well say the same," he bitterly responded. "I admit that my words that night were meant to be cruel. I had spoken in anger. Of course, I view you as my wife. My real wife. If we're struggling to have normal married life, it's because we're strangers to each other. Yes, we're married, but we've never courted. It's natural that there would be uneasiness and miscommunication between us, and that it would inevitably lead to problems, but …" He ran a hand over his hair. "You really want to live separately once we return home?"

She shivered, feeling suddenly so cold. Hermione wondered if she would ever feel warm again. As she looked at him, the pain resurfaced, sharp as ever.

"Yes," she said softly.

His mouth tightened. "How long?"

Hermione whispered, "I don't know."

"Do you do believe me about Narcissa, at least?"

"I guess so," came her meek reply.

His eyes dangerously glinted at her. "Do as you like. I'll not hold you against your will."

He walked out, slamming the door hard behind him.

Hermione knew that she wasn't being entirely reasonable in this. It hurt more that he hadn't cared enough about her to be more forthright against Narcissa's advances.

Heart-sick, she fell into a restless sleep until raised voices roused her from it.

"We can't take the chopper out in this wind," she heard Scott's voice.

"You have to!" Lucius insisted.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Malfoy, but I can't risk the lives of my team. If we go now, we'll crash on the side of the mountain and then who will search for your son?"

"What are we supposed to do then?" Narcissa's shrill female voice cried out.

"We'll have to wait until the wind dies down," Scott said.

"When will that be?" Lucius demanded.

Scott explained in vain, "Blizzards can appear out of nowhere, ahead of predicted schedule. We may have to wait it out. Meteorologists predict for the storm to last for the next two days."

There was some commotion as arguments ensued. Hermione didn't hear Scott's reply as she went about her morning routine and dressed. She gathered her duffel bag, intending to follow through on her plans. She didn't want to be a third-wheel in this family drama any longer. By the time she came out of her room, the chalet appeared empty. Quietly, she walked out, briskly making her way toward the lodge. Her hair blew about her as she held on to her hood. The snow was rapidly falling as giant gray clouds descended from the sky and enveloped the top of the peak. Hermione shuddered from cold and hurried on.

As her luck would have it, the lodge was booked and she had no choice but to return to the chalet.

The blonde witch was casually flipping through a magazine, while Lucius was nowhere to be found. Hermione kept to her room, avoiding any contact with Draco's mother. Every time she saw her, she had an unnatural urge to hex the older witch.

She kept listening for Lucius, but even as the sky darkened and white and gray chunks of snow swirled outside her window, there was no sign of her husband.

Swallowing her pride, Hermione ventured out of her room.

"Um… It's getting dark out there … do you happen to know when Lucius is coming back?" she asked Narcissa, who continued thumbing through her magazine.

Narcissa haughtily raised her eyebrow at Hermione. "When? I don't know. Whenever he finds Draco."

"What do you mean? He's out with ski patrol?"

The older woman sneered. "Of course not. Those morons are utterly incompetent. He went out there by himself," she clarified nonchalantly.

Hermione's stomach twisted with worry. "There? You mean on Suicide Run?"

"Yes. As he should be," Narcissa said as she turned a page over and pursed her lips at the picture of a witch modeling a fur stole.

"That's an experts-only run! He shouldn't be there alone! Does ski patrol know about that?"

"Know about what?" the blonde asked distractedly, still examining the merchandize.

Hermione tried to stem hysteria out of her voice as she spoke, "About him being out there."

"I have no idea. Now do you mind?" She waved her hand at Hermione, shooing her away.

Terrified for Lucius, Hermione grabbed her Charmed handbag, making sure her emergency supplies were in it as well as few power bars. Transfiguring her footwear into a pair of cross-country skis, she went back out, plowing through the heavy snow. Conditions were awful and she was sure they'd be worse on Suicide Run. Concentrating with all her might, she pictured the spot she had seen in one of the photographs in her guidebook. A second later, she stood before the sign of the run. As she had suspected, the terrain was terrible and the wind was even worse, slowing down her progress. After couple of hours, Hermione felt like she hardly made any progress. She plodded down the slope, frantically keeping her eyes out for Lucius, but he was nowhere to be see. Her heart pounded fiercely in her chest, as she tried to catch her breath, heavily panting from exertion. She was sweating under her skiing outfit, but she was shivering at the same time. Once again, she ignored her hardships. She had to get to him. She just had to.

Suddenly, a thunderous noise filled the air and the entire mountain shook with it. The ground beneath her rumbled and her world was knocked off balance. A kaleidoscope of snow and indigo sky spun all around her until Hermione no longer knew which was was up; she had no sense of direction whatsoever. Her body tumbled down, and she and no control over her any of her movements as the mountainside rushed down at her. She slammed her head hard against something and skidded down further as a wall of snow cascaded over her.

When Hermione came to, she was facedown in the snow. Her head was throbbing so hard that a concussion seemed like a distinct possibility. She slowly sat up and assessed her surroundings, but nothing looked familiar. The avalanche had changed the landscape around her.

Wrenching her body out of the snow, she felt sore all over. Her skis turned back to her shoes, the poles were hopelessly lost. There was a strange stillness, then she heard a groan.

 _Lucius!_

"Mr. Malfoy!" she called out, stumbling around. Panic and joy overpowered the pain in her head and limbs.

"Over here!" shouted a familiar voice.

Hermione whirled around and recognized his familiar black parka several feet away, as he brushed the snow off his body.

 _He was alright!_

At least he didn't appear physically hurt.

Then another roar shook the mountain; it echoed through the air. Chunks of ice and snow cascaded off the side of the mountain.

"Hermione, there's a cabin up ahead. Follow me," he called to her.

It was impossible to go back the way they came and Hermione lacked focus for Apparition. She gratefully followed him to shelter. They came upon a log cabin, but the entrance was half-buried in snow. They scooped out armfuls of it until they uncovered it enough to get it open.

"I think it should do it," Lucius called out to Hermione over the howling of the wind. He turned the knob, but the door remained unyielding.

"It might be frozen shut," Hermione guessed.

Nodding, Lucius rammed his shoulder repeatedly against the wood until it finally gave way. The door swung open inward so fast that they both tumbled inside. They sprawled on the cold wooden planks in the center of a dark, small room. Hermione jumped to her feet and shut the door against nature's fury outside. She surveyed the room, her eyes automatically coming to rest on Lucius as he rose to his feet. Although it seemed inappropriate given their grim situation, she couldn't help but notice how attractive her husband was. His dark ski suit showed off his powerful physique, and the disarray of his glossy blond mane only made him sexier. Hermione couldn't help but recall their handful of intimate moments together. Embarrassed, she turned away from him and lit a fire in the hearth. The room had practical pieces decorating it — a wooden table, couple of chairs, a small bed, and couch. The kitchenette had a small stove and built-in cabinets that contained a few cans of food, a can opener, cutlery, and bottled water.

"There's some food here," she announced.

Lucius fiddled with a radio on the table. "Worthless piece of junk," he said, slamming his fist onto the table.

Hermione looked over at the smoke in the fireplace and watched the tiny tendrils of yellow fire dance over the logs. "It shouldn't take long for the cabin to warm up," she said, reaching to tap a smoldering log with a fire poker until it erupted into a flare of orange flame. She kneeled in front of the flames and shook out her hair, attempting to dry it. She immediately regretted her actions. The ordinary motion intensified her headache to an alarming degree. She felt so dizzy that the room appeared to be spinning all around her. Then there was nothing but darkness.

* * *

 **It's not all bad though! I promise there's light at the end of this tunnel!**

 **Hugs,**

 **Lana**


	9. Chapter 9

Through the veil of foggy darkness, somewhere in the distance, there was a spark of light. Hermione couldn't look at it though; it was too bright.

"Open your eyes … come back to me," said a familiar voice. It sounds like Lucius, but it sounds too apprehensive … too unassertive to be his. "I can't lose you now."

Even though it pained her, she opened her eyes again. She was lying on a lumpy bed with Lucius bent over her. Her wand in his hand. His eyes were as wild as his hair now, but he looked vastly relieved when he saw her blink up at him.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, looking paler than ever.

"Like I was hit by a bus," she replied weakly, her head was so heavy.

"Why didn't you say anything about not feeling well?" He must have been attempting to sound stern, but his voice had a shaky quality to it.

"I didn't feel too unwell. It was only a headache. I was going to rest once we've settled in," she explained. "Speaking of which, there is a pain reliever in an emergency kit in my handbag."

Lucius rummaged through it, finally retrieving the supplies she asked for. Hermione took out a pain-relieving tincture and took a small sip from it.

"Here." He handed her a steaming mug. "I made some tea. You'd better eat one of these things." Lucius examined one of the power bars from her purse.

"You too. Tomorrow I can make whatever's in those cans. Unless you feel up to it now."

"My culinary skills leave much to be desired," he explained. "I wouldn't want to waste any food in my attempts to cook it, so this will have to do."

He opened one bar and took a bite, wincing at the taste.

"That good, huh?"

"I suppose it is better than nothing," he said, quickly polishing it off. Standing up, he transfigured Hermione's parka into a warm blanket and wrapped it about her as she continued to nibble on her meager meal.

"Are you at all better now?" Lucius inquired, looking over her.

"Yes, much better. Just tired."

"That's good." He was silent for a moment. He appeared to want to say something else, but thought better of it.

"I'll sleep on the couch," he finally offered.

"Okay."

"If you need anything—"

"You'll what?" she interrupted, amused. "You'll go out into the blizzard and get it for me?"

"You're still angry with me," he remarked with bitterness.

"That wasn't how I meant it. And not that it matters now, but I have every right to be angry."

He paced impatiently before the bed. "How many times do I have to tell you that it wasn't my doing? It was an unfortunate circumstance of Narcissa seeking comfort in the wrong place. At least she wasn't looking for it in any of her mixtures of potions and questionable powders. It was a simple mistake! Why are you so determined to make more of it than it was? I never wanted this!"

She didn't want to hear this right now, but she felt oddly invigorated now that anger was returning to her. "Oh boo-hoo! You were this poor helpless bystander and she was the villain. I got it! You don't have to keep repeating this story ad nauseam; I heard it the first time. I don't need to hear over and over how you put her feelings ahead of mine. It matters not that I would ever see you! You should have acted the same way, whether I was in the room with you or not! I've lost my parents and possibly my job by staying with you to play the dutiful wife. You couldn't do one decent thing."

Frustration flashed in his eyes. "Let's talk about this after we've rested. At this point, it's like talking to a brick wall because you're punishing me for not sharing your beliefs on how I should have acted in a situation I wasn't anticipating. My intentions were to comfort the mother of my only child. I didn't want to do anything to cause her to dive back into her anti-anxiety stash. If, in her fear-fueled hysteria, she misunderstood me, it's her problem. Unless …" His frustration turned to something else and he had a nerve to give her small, smug smile. "You were jealous."

Her cheeks flush from his accusation. "It wasn't about jealousy," she argued. "It was about you respecting me and our wedding vows, at least until we can get a divorce. We didn't choose to be husband and wife, but we are. And wipe that stupid grin off your face! As I recall, you were the jealous one, accusing Scott of being unprofessional with me when he was anything but! And you threw all those accusations around without even catching us in a compromising position, so just drink your tea and shut up."

His eyes glinted. "I still think you were jealous."

Annoyed, Hermione reached for her handbag and threw it at him, but he easily dodged it.

"That's spousal abuse, you know," he commented nonchalantly.

"Next time you're stranded on the mountain in the blizzard, I am so not going after you," Hermione threatened, turning over and closing her eyes.

* * *

The next day was fruitless. There was nothing to do, but sit around and wait. Hermione managed to be civil to Lucius, and the events of last night were not mentioned again, although he did smirk quite a bit at her when she was in the kitchen.

"Hmm, it smells good," Lucius said when Hermione handed him a bowl of chicken soup. "I'm glad one of us can cook."

"Save your compliments for when you've actually had a taste," she said, blowing lightly into her bowl.

He took a mouthful and nodded. "I've never met a witch who could cook so well."

"It's soup, Lucius. Anyone can heat up a can of soup. It doesn't require much skill," she said, amused.

"You've made dinner for me when you moved in, remember?" Lucius twirled his spoon in his bowl. For some unknown reason, Hermione found the gesture incredibly sexy.

 _Damn him!_

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, our meals were so romantic since then."

Lucius changed the subject. "I've been sending up red emergency sparks through the chimney. If the storm will die down soon, the ski patrol won't be able to miss us."

"That's good, but you know it could be days before anyone ventures out to look for us. The storm is not even over yet."

"Days? We don't have days. I have to find my son! We've already lost so much time sitting here."

Hermione swallowed a spoonful of hot soup before speaking, "Lucius, I don't know how to tell you this, but no one may even be looking for us. I mean, Narcissa knows you're out here, but I don't think she understood that I was going to look for you. It may be a while before she'll become concerned enough to notify anyone."

His eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

"When I talked to her and she told that you were out here alone, she was very serene," she told him. "All I've seen her do is frantically berate people since we've arrived and this time she was as cool as cucumber. It was very strange. It didn't seem like she understood that I was coming after you, so it may take a while before she alerts Scott's team."

"Oh, no," Lucius ominously said. His spoon clattering in the empty bowl.

"What? What's wrong?"

"Did she have anything with her? Did you see any vials?" he asked, his expression clouding.

"No, but … it was odd. She acted like you stepped out to go to the store, not ski down the most dangerous slope on the mountain. She paid more attention to her magazine than to me, so I don't know if she understood that I was going after you. Wait, why are you concerned about vials? You don't think she took anything, do you?"

He let out a long sigh. "She might have. She's had problems with anxiety since I've been to Azkaban. During the war, they've become worse. She had quite an addiction to Calming Draught for a while, but then became convinced that it wasn't working, so she … I told you last night that she experiments with powders and other potions."

Hermione felt a wave of sympathy for the witch. "So she takes it often?"

"Only when she feels that her anxiety is becoming too much. She used to argue that if she didn't, she couldn't get out of bed." He looked morose. "It's my fault. I drove her to it and then I didn't do anything at the time because of my own drinking problem."

Hermione joined him on the couch, wanting to comfort her husband somehow, but not sure what she could say or do. "Aside from the night you found out about Draco, I haven't seen you drink that much. Not enough to say you have a problem with it."

He shook his head. "I suppose not anymore, but during the war I went through fire-whisky like bread, so I couldn't exactly lecture her on perils of self-medication." Lucius paused, then added, "The worst part is that her memory gets impaired whenever she takes anything stronger than Calming Draught. It's a lot like when you couldn't remember what happened on New Year's Eve. Worse than that, it also makes her paranoid. I'm … If she took anything to calm her nerves, she may not even remember having that conversation with you. She may even assume we left the mountain together."

Hermione felt her mouth drop in shock as the realization hit her in the pit of her stomach. "So … for all ski patrol knows, Draco is the only missing person on this mountain. If they find him before us … no one's going to look for us."

Lucius looked at her, but remained silent. It was confirmation enough.

Looking around, Hermione picked up the defective radio and fiddled with the power switch. It was stuck, but she continued to work on it until it gave in and she was able to turn the radio on and off. The piercing static that screeched from it drowned out the howling of the storm outside.

"Come in! SOS!" Hermione spoke into the radio. There was no response, but she kept trying long into the night. It was their only hope.

"We're stranded on Suicide Run. Please send help!" she said into the microphone, her voice getting hoarse from hours of fruitless attempts.

Lucius rested a hand on her shoulder. Hermione felt a warm rush of pleasure at his touch.

"You've been at it for hours," he said. "You should take a break." His hands began caressing, then kneading the sore tense muscles of her shoulders.

"But I can't! I may miss our only chance to get through. When it's late, the frequencies aren't as swamped as they are during the day. I just have to keep trying every channel until I get a response."

"It's almost midnight. You should get some sleep and wake up early to try again."

Hermione shook her head and stifled a yawn. "We can't afford to miss our only chance." She spoke into the microphone again, "Ski patrol, this is an SOS."

She nearly jumped when she heard a loud buzz of static and then a man's voice cracked through. "Is this Hermione Granger?" Scott's distinct American accent sounded from the other end.

"Yes, it's me! We're stranded in one of the cabins on the west side of Suicide Run."

Scott responded but it was hard to distinguish his words through grating static noise. She caught every other word after she asked him to repeat himself. "We're not hurt, but I might have a concussion."

The harsh static cut off Scott's next words and the radio went dead. Hermione desperately twisted the knobs and dials.

"We've lost the signal," she said with defeat.

Lucius's fingers massaged at her shoulders, soothing some of the tension away. Without hesitation, she relaxed into the rhythm of his strokes.

"Come here," he said, taking her by the hand and leading her toward the bed.

"What are you doing?" she asked him, lying down on her stomach.

His breath tickled her skin as he whispered above her ear, "Helping you relax." His hands moved beneath her jumper to work on her shoulders and back.

Hermione sighed at the soothing touch of his hands. Whenever he found a knot in her muscles he would concentrate on that particular spot until the pressure was gone. He moved to her neck and she hadn't realized how much stress she carried there until he massaged it away. His hands moved down along her spine.

"You need to relax," Lucius told her.

"I know, I know. I'm trying."

"You'll feel better if you'll let go. We can't go anywhere and we can't do anything. You don't need to think. All you need to do is feel. Feel where my hands are, feel how they're touching you and just relax."

Hermione tried to do as he told her. She concentrated on his touches. Soon she had no awareness of anything but his hands. Her neck and back were getting warm from his attentions. The tension of the last two days flowed from her body and Hermione felt peace and tranquility descend upon her mind. She wished she could take off her clothes, but that would be asking for trouble. Hermione knew she wasn't ready to be intimate with him again; she didn't know if she would ever be ready for that. Nevertheless, she liked this. His hands soothed her and made her skin take on a life of its own. Every nerve alerted to his palms and fingers, registering each movement. She was melting under him.

"I'm going to fall asleep like this," Hermione warned him.

"Oh, I'll keep you awake, I promise." He slipped his hands inside the waste band of her skiing trousers and she gasped at the intimacy of them. He ran his thumbs along her lower back and she let out a soft moan, feeling a tingle of arousal at that particular touch.

Embarrassed, she moved away from him and rolled onto her back.

"Maybe we shouldn't keep each other awake." Hermione could hardly recognize her voice. "Like you said, it's getting late and I want to get up early to try the radio again.

He nodded and bid her goodnight.

Hermione's thoughts drifted off. She missed the passion of his kisses, the taste of his breath, the softness of his lips … the tone of his voice as he instructed her … the intensity of his love-making … the way his eyes seemed to stare right into her very soul … the way they connected the night they celebrated their one week anniversary.

She blinked back her tears. It was all meaningless. He would have never acted the way he had if any of that meant anything to him.

* * *

"We're officially out of food," Hermione grimly announced as she scanned the empty cabinets. They've been stuck in this cabin for the third day now.

Lucius didn't respond as he scarped a thin film of ice from the cabin's small windows. "It's coming down hard again. Looks like we're in for another round."

"And we're running low on firewood," Hermione said, glancing at the fireplace.

"Not really. We can always burn chairs and table, if comes to it," he pointed out.

"I didn't think of that," she admitted.

He gave her a worried look. "But it may not matter. Look how the roof is sagging in the middle."

Hermione felt her optimism dissipate. "We can fortify it with a spell."

"Sure, but without food, our magic will be as weak as we are. How long will we be able to stave off the inevitable?"

"You mean that the roof will eventually collapse on us anyway?" she clarified.

"Probably. Once we've no strength to perform magic."

Her lips shook. "And here I was worried about food and firewood running out."

It became eerily quiet outside.

"The snow probably piled up as high as the walls," Hermione surmised.

Lucius sighed. "Great, we're buried alive."

Hermione felt her eyes glisten with tears as she warmed her hands by the fire. "I'm scared," she whispered to him.

Lucius walked up to her and pulled her body against his chest, wrapping his arms firmly around her. Hermione thought he was going to kiss her. Even if it's all they'll ever have, it would be enough to have him like this, focused on this moment completely with his eyes blazing down at her. Whether they'll die together or leave this place together, it wouldn't matter. He leaned down to her.

Suddenly, there was a noise outside. And voices!

The ski patrol!

Breaking apart, Lucius and Hermione rushed towards the door, yanking it open just in time to see Scott and his crew digging their way to them.

"Boy, are we ever glad to see you! Come on, we've got a chopper waiting," Scott said, leading them out the way he came. He turned to Lucius. "Mr. Malfoy, you'll happy to see a familiar face when we'll get you two to the clinic."

"Did you find him? Did you find Draco?"

"Yes and—"

"Clinic? Why is he there? Was he hurt?" Lucius interrupted him with a barrage of questions.

"Don't worry," Scott said in his calm manner. "It's a standard procedure to have a doctor examine everyone after they've been stranded on a mountain. It's to make sure there's no internal bleeding. Although Draco did have a touch of flu. Your … er … his mother is with him, so he's well looked after."

Hermione looked at Lucius. A tremendous relief came over his features. For the first time since he's gotten the owl about Draco's disappearance, he looked relaxed. She was truly happy for him.

As they climbed inside the helicopter, Lucius reached over and squeezed her hand.

"We can all go home now and put this terrible ordeal behind us," he said.

"I'm glad. I'm so happy this turned out well." She pressed her lips together, uncertain how to say the next words. "But I meant what I said … about our living arrangements?"

He removed his hand from hers. "Still?" Annoyance replaced relief on his face.

"Yes. This is for the best actually," she went on. "We need to get to know each other as people. Platonically. It was too confusing what we were trying to do. Being intimate without being intimate is just more than I can handle. And … we're not ready to be married. Not to each other. We're stuck with each other for the next three years, at the very least, let's just give each other space and start over. Let's try to be friends before spouses and … then see what happens."

She looked at him, but he stared out the window at the snow-covered world below them.

"And what exactly is supposed to happen?" he coldly asked.

Hermione twisted her hands on her lap. "I don't know. But I can't put on a show to convince the Family Council that this marriage is genuine when it's not. Like I said, if they'll penalize us by making us pay fines for however long our waiting period will be, then so be it. I'll pay you back my share. I've got to start getting my life back together and focus on my needs right now. I can't be focused on our marriage. My blood sugar's low, so I'm probably not making any sense."

"I understand that you want space. And then what? What are we supposed to be doing exactly with our space?" he inquired, still not looking at her.

She tried to answer as best as she could, "Just figuring out what we want without any pressure to act married or be married. I mean other than in legal status."

"Hmm."

The rest of the ride was spent in silence. They may have been rescued from dying in the snow, but Hermione had a feeling that this ice between them may never melt again.

* * *

 **Thank you dear reviewers for your support and interest in this story! I hope you'll continue on this journey with them :)**

 **Lana**

 **P.S. I know quite a few of you expected a pregnancy here, but it was only altitude sickness. There is no little Malfoy on the way. I did the whole surprise baby storyline in Meant to Be because the circumstances were right for it there, but they're not here. They've got a lot more problems to resolve before they'll be ready for something like this.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Among new beginnings old feelings resurface...**

* * *

"Oh, hey, isn't that them?" Kelsey asked Hermione, pointing at the wizards who just stepped out of the queue in Fortescue's ice-cream parlor.

Hermione waved for Harry and Ron to join her and Kelsey at their corner table by one of the windows.

"Isn't that Ginny? Are you guys back on speaking terms?" her former colleague inquired, whipping her head to look back at Hermione.

"Oh, yeah. I guess. Nothing's going to change what happened. It's not the same, but I want to get along again for Harry's sake. It's awful when two people closest to you are on bad terms … makes everything so awkward."

"What took you so long?" Hermione asked them when the trio sat down next to them.

Ron caught the sliding drop of ice-cream from his cone, before replying, "Bloody May Day Ball Committee meeting."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up. "Should I even ask for more details?"

Ginny rolled her eyes at Ron in mixture of annoyance and disgust. "George's shop is the ball's sponsor this year, and apparently sponsors have to set up a committee to organize all the ball details. That's how Harry and I got roped in," she explained. "But there's so much to do! We can't even come up with good theme and without the theme we can't do promotional stuff or plan out menu, or even decide on decorations. We clearly need someone who's better at this stuff." She gave Harry a pointed look.

He looked at Hermione. "Which is why we were hoping that you and your friend … um …?"

"Kelsey," the blonde witch supplied.

"That you and Kelsey might be interested in helping us … please?"

Hermione looked at Kelsey, who grinned and nodded.

"We'll agree as long as it's understood that we're helping, not doing all the work," Hermione warned, looking at Ron and Harry. "I mean it. Once we come up with a theme, we'll divide the tasks. Whatever you decide to do, please do it." She pointed specifically to the boys. "That means no procrastinating, you two."

Now Ron looked annoyed. "We won't. It's not like it's school. You're starting to sound like Mum."

"I'm just making things clear."

Kelsey gestured with her shake. "Okay, okay. Let's get to business. Theme ideas?"

"Masquerade?" Ginny suggested.

Hermione grimaced. "I think it's been done too many times last year."

"What about something fun like something tropical?" Harry asked.

"Like Jungle Fever?" Kelsey pursed her lips. "I don't know. Doesn't sound formal enough."

"What about picking a decade for a theme and dress in those old-fashioned clothes?" Ron threw in, eyeing Kelsey with the same interest as he eyed his ice-cream.

"Too costume-y," Hermione dismissed, trying to rake her brain for something less overdone.

Right at that moment Hermione caught a flash of a tall, blond wizard passing by the window.

 _Lucius_ , she realized, her heart hammering in her chest. She sat up straighter, unable to unglue her gaze from him. He had such a powerful walk – as though every step used only a fraction of the coiled energy within him.

As if sensing her stare on him, he turned to look straight at her. Immediately, Hermione felt a warm rush of emotion crash over her from intensity of his eyes. Her stomach flip-flopped and her mouth went dry. She managed to give him a tentative smile. He nodded in acknowledgement and continued on his way.

"Oooh," Kelsey crooned. "Hot hubby alert. How are things on that front?"

Hermione shrugged. "Some days he's comfortable with being friends, at other times he's comfortable with being strangers. We also have lunches with his grandmother every Sunday."

Kelsey raised her eyebrows. "That's it? No date nights ever?"

"No, of course not. I meant what I told him: I want to get to know him without any romantic implications," Hermione explained for the umpteenth time in the last three months. "I told you, introducing sex into our situation—"

"Gross," Ron remarked. Harry didn't say anything, but wore an equally disgusted expression at the turn the conversation took.

"Just eat your ice-cream," Ginny impatiently ordered.

Hermione continued, "Like I was trying to say before I was rudely interrupted, sex complicated things and confused me. I was too busy trying to check-mark everything so it looks all tidy for the divorce proceedings that I didn't consider emotional implications of being and acting married. I don't want to risk heartbreak if we just go our separate ways in three years."

"So what's going to happen exactly?" Ginny probed.

She explained again, "We'll get to know each other. No sex, no romantic expectations. It's all about knowing each other outside of any context we've ever been it. I just want to see if my feelings were real or if I confused physical attraction and strangeness of our new marital status with something more. If there's a potential there, we'll move forward in our relationship; if not, we'll go about our separate lives until we can get a divorce. It's that simple," she explained.

Ginny leaned forward with interest. "And how is all that going? I mean you haven't lived with him since January, does that mean for the past three months your interaction has been limited to Sunday lunches with no alone time whatsoever?"

Hermione gave a surprise shake with her head. "Well, no. We have alone time. He took me to his alchemy lab a few times. Did you know he invented a whole new formula of replicating gold and silver, only without physical metal extraction? I had no idea he was so talented."

She didn't want to tell them about him sending her cute, little gifts for their monthly anniversaries. Without going into details, it may all sound like he was trying to buy her affection, even though his gifts lacked romantic take-me-back subtext. Hermione knew he wasn't, but she also wasn't in the mood to explain that as well. Besides, it felt good to keep little tidbits to herself; some things were not for sharing even with nearest and dearest friends.

Ron rolled his eyes, but refrained from making snide comments.

"I don't know if I should tell you this," Harry said, looking uneasy. "But not everybody's at the Ministry is so eager to sing his praises when it comes to this particular issue."

"I don't think he cares about that," Hermione retorted.

"Well, he should if he doesn't want to end up in Azkaban again," Ron shot back.

Ginny looked unconvinced. "I hardly doubt it's going to come to that."

Glaring at Ron, Hermione continued to argue. "It's not illegal behavior, Ron. Nor does it have anything to do with Dark Arts, so how exactly is my husband risking Azkaban? Do enlighten us with your hitherto unsuspected top-secret knowledge."

"I see things aren't all that bad if you're so defensive about him," Ron grumbled.

"I honestly think the Auror Office is bored and needs a new challenge," Hermione opined. "Just because he is not sprinkling ashes on his head or living the life of a recluse doesn't mean that he's up to something sinister."

Ron was about to say something, but Ginny cut him off, "Truce, okay? This is supposed to be fun, remember?" She turned to Hermione. "So now that things between you are improving, can we count on you two to show up to this ball? It _is_ for a good cause, after all."

Hermione frowned. "I don't know. I don't mind helping you with organizing it, but to actually go? I don't know. He's been very good about giving me the space I asked for, but doing couples activities together? I don't know if I'm ready for that. I don't even know if he's ready for that. May Day Ball would be nice and all, but … I just don't want to risk sending mixed messages to him."

"Hmm, I don't think it will," Kelsey said. "You took control of your life to figure out what you really want. Going to one event together is hardly going to change anything. I mean, it's not like it's Valentine's Day Ball with heavy romantic expectations. It's just a charity ball to donate money to St. Mungo's children's ward. I don't think it'll send mixed signals anymore than going to Sunday luncheons at his grandmother's would."

Hermione remained unconvinced, but decided to change the topic. "Well what about you? Are you going with Rob?"

Kelsey shifted in her seat. "It's a month from now, right?" Ginny nodded and she continued, "Then no. He'll be in New York by then. He's already apartment hunting over there, but he's starting with his firm in a couple of weeks, so I think he'll be too busy with work and adjusting to the new city and all."

She looked a little sad, and Hermione put her arm around her. "You could still go with a friend."

"Or you could advertise," Ginny suggested.

"That's just sad," Ron remarked. "She doesn't need to advertise for a date. She's so gorgeous, lots of blokes would—"

"Take a cold shower, mate," Harry whispered to him.

Ginny ignored them. "It's not sad, it's practical. It's for charity; the more people come, the better. Just because her boyfriend is not in town, doesn't mean that she has to skip this event. Finding a date with no emotional involvement, who just wants to dress up, mingle, dance, and donate money to a worthwhile cause is the best alternative to simply skipping. Not everyone wants to show up alone, but that doesn't mean it has to be a love interest or nothing. Same goes for you, Hermione."

"Ginny, I have enough trust issues to work on in my marriage, I don't need to derail all of our hard work by going to a formal event on the arm of someone else. My situation is nothing like Kelsey's, for Merlin's sake."

The redheaded witch narrowed her eyes at her. "Why? Is he the super jealous, possessive type?"

"I wouldn't say that, but at Enchanted Peaks he wasn't too happy with the head of ski patrol, so I don't want a repeat of that situation," Hermione told her.

"Ugh, you're not going to be one of those wives who walks on eggshells around her husband in constant fear of making him mad, are you? Because that's not healthy and bordering on abusive—"

"No, it's not about making him mad," Hermione interrupted her. "It's about building trust. According to _Shattered Vows: Recovering from Infidelity_ , while we're rebuilding our trust, we have to have total transparency. He doesn't see his ex alone anymore and I can show the same curtesy by not engaging in couple-like activities with a man who is not him."

"I can't believe I'm going to sound like I'm defending Malfoy," Ron began, "but does one unwanted kiss really counts as infidelity? You're acting like he had an affair, but he didn't and you're not even a real couple, so I don't get it."

She sighed. "You wouldn't. It may sound strange to you, but I don't think you can understand how it feels unless you've experienced it first-hand. It's easy to say it's just a kiss, but it's a whole different world when you witness someone you're married to do something like this. It doesn't matter how long you've been together or that you're not in love, it changes things. You don't see that person in the same light anymore. We agreed to do everything to make our marriage look valid and kissing another witch wasn't part of it!"

Harry scratched his head. "I get being hurt by it, but calling it an infidelity is a bit dramatic, don't you think? It would be I guess if he kissed her back, but if he says he didn't… I don't know, it's just strange to me."

"That's because you don't know what it's like," Kelsey interjected. "You see it as an outsider who is not emotionally invested. To you, it's simple. To Ron, a kiss doesn't count as cheating if you don't return it. To somebody else, it counts. You can't apply your own relationship standards to those of others."

"Yeah, Harry, stop trying to defend him all the time," Ginny chided her husband.

He held up his hands. "Okay, you win. I think Ron and I should pop in to a Quidditch shop while you girls discuss … um… personal things. Maybe we'll come up with a theme while we're there."

Ron hopped off his seat. "Best idea you've had all day. Let's go before we drown in all this estrogen talk."

Hermione sighed into her melted sundae. It would be fun to dress up and go together, but she doubted Lucius would be interested. He didn't ask her to the Valentine's Ball. It was too soon back then when the memories of Enchanted Peaks were so fresh, but now that they've made so much progress…

She shook her head. It was such a long shot, she didn't even want to get her hopes up even imagining the possibility. Oh, well. There was always New Year's Eve. They must have danced together at that … even if she couldn't remember it.

Kelsey gave her a sympathetic smile. "If we both end up dateless on May Day, we could be each other's dates," she joked.

Hermione cracked a smile. "As much as I like blonds, you're really not my type."

They laughed together for a moment, but Hermione couldn't maintain her mirth for long. She stopped laughing and looked blankly out the window, in the direction she had seen Lucius walk off to.

* * *

The photos blurred before her as Hermione yawned. She came early to Mrs. Swancombe's Sunday luncheon to look through her old family albums in the library, hoping something in them might inspire her to come up with a theme before tomorrow's Ball Committee meeting.

Someone cleared his throat, and Hermione glanced up to see Lucius looking down at her.

"Hi," she greeted him.

"Brushing up on the family history?" he asked, gesturing to the albums in front of her.

Hermione groaned. "Not really. I'm trying to come up with a theme for May Day's Ball. A friend of mine asked me to join his planning committee and we're supposed to come up with a theme, but I can't think of anything. We're aiming for something elegant and all the ideas I keep hearing are all wrong. Since your grandmother has been to so many galas I thought I'd browse through her past and see if I can pick up a thing or two."

"What about something like Fire and Ice?" he suggested.

She was surprised to find herself impressed with his suggestion. The guests could either choose to incorporate the theme into their formal-wear or not. The menu would have so many possibilities. The decorations could be a sea of silver and crimson. Something like this would definitely draw a lot of donors.

"You know," she said slowly, "that's a terrific idea."

He smiled at her. "You really think so?"

"Yes, I absolutely love it! You're a genius." Without thinking, she stood up to hug him, reeling at the contact. It was the first time they've been so close in months. He picked her up and twirled her around the dark space of the library. In such close proximity, she could feel his heart beating against hers. If she lifted her face closer to his, their lips would touch. His smoky eyes burned into hers and she felt an energy jolt through her body. Hermione pulled away, embarrassed. She felt familiar attraction to him again, but this time it was somehow magnified. And the feeling scared her. How could she have such strong emotions for Lucius when she barely knew him, especially after the fiasco on Enchanted Peaks? Although she _had_ gotten to know him better in these past three months, she still wasn't emotionally ready to take their relationship to another level. She wasn't even ready to _discuss_ another level … and yet being held by him felt so right.

When the house-elf interrupted and announced that lunch was ready, Hermione gratefully stepped back from him, but the strange feeling in her remained.

 _Progress,_ she told herself. _It only means we're making progress. Nothing more._

The ball was just confusing her is all. That must be it. It was just the excitement of working on a new project.

* * *

 **Thank you all once again for your continued interest in this story. Let me know what you think of this one.**

 **Lots of love,**

 **Lana**


	11. Chapter 11

After lunch, Hermione excused herself to send letters to Ginny, Ron, Harry, and Kelsey about Lucius's idea for the ball's theme. If all goes well, they'll all sign off on the theme and proceed further with the planning. By the time she returned from the owlery, Hermione heard Lucius and Mrs. Swancombe in deep discussion … about her.

"… must do something about it. This whole Spanish divorce is starting to look worse and worse. In my day things were done much differently," the witch grumbled. "Married people didn't live apart in such scandalous manner. You grandfather never would have allowed it under his roof!"

"How lucky for him that he's dead and buried," Lucius drawled. "Grandmaman, normally I value your advise but this is between me and my wife. I've wronged her and I am trying to make reparations for it."

"By letting her leave your home? It's been months! Since when are you afraid to fight for what you want?"

Lucius wasn't falling for her goading. "I wasn't aware there was a time limit on winning back her trust. Remember the saying about attracting more bees with honey than with vinegar? It's the same difference between force and seduction. I want her to come back to the Manor willingly like she did before Enchanted Peaks. I want her to come back because she wants to, not because of any threats that I may use legal action to press my marital rights over her."

"You are a vain wizard, Lucius. It will be your downfall. The issue at stake is your familial obligation to produce more heirs before Draco gets lost on another mountain; it's not about how well you can seduce your wife into submission."

"This discussion is giving me a migraine," he complained.

Mrs. Swancombe chuckled. "Oh, do it your way, if it flatters your vanity. It's not my place to stop you, only to counsel. Just do whatever needs to be done for you both to sign the marriage contract."

Hermione decided to make her presence known and stepped into the room, effectively ending their conversation. "Did I hear you say that you have another migraine?" she asked Lucius.

"I told you, it comes and goes. I just…"

"Can't stand light, loud noise, or smell of food. I know," she finished for him. "Come, we should get you to bed before it gets worse."

They Floo-ed to the Manor and Hermione followed him to his suite. As he lay down, she waved her wand at the windows, closing the curtains to block out the light that irritated her husband in his malady.

"I'd rather you not see me in my weakness," he muttered.

"It's not a weakness, Lucius," she gently contradicted him. She removed his shoes, then unbuttoned his waistcoat and loosened his cravat. "We don't have absolute control over our health; otherwise, no one would ever get ill."

She removed his cufflinks and set them on his bedside table before rolling up the sleeves of his shirt.

"May I try something?" Hermione asked him.

"What do you mean? If it's another massage, I have to warn you that I don't relish the thought of becoming aroused and left to finish in solitude."

She rolled her eyes at him. "No, not that. I've been reading a lot about your condition and there are quite a few remedies."

"No potion has ever been remotely successful in helping and, if there is one, I do not want to become dependent on it."

"It's not any potion," she said, shaking her head.

"Oh, fine. I'm at your mercy."

"Okay, I lied a little. It does involve some massaging but only of your head," she said, digging around in her purse for supplies.

"I suppose if I remain clothed, it is all right," he said, placing one hand on her lap.

Hermione called for a house-elf and asked him to bring her a basin of hot water. When he arrived with supplies she requested, she thanked the elf and dissolved a few drops of lavender oil in the water before soaking a sponge in it. After squeezing out excess water, she dabbed his face with it.

"I know it's hot, but I want you to breathe in the scent," she instructed him, carefully patting his face.

"It smells like that massage oil," he commented.

"Stop thinking," Hermione admonished him.

"I'm not thinking, I just recognize it. It's your fault that I'm associating this scent with your erotic massaging."

She snorted. "That wasn't an erotic massage. It was just a massage. I think you're confusing it with Nuru or something."

He let out a whistle. "Look who's the expert on the subject."

"Look who needs to be quiet. You're supposed to be relaxing." Hermione set the sponge aside and reached for a jar of feverfew ointment. She carefully applied it to his temples and massaged it into his skin with the tips of her fingers. Dabbing more ointment on her hands, she massaged beneath his brows, pressing harder on the points she read about. Supposedly, if done correctly, it would alleviate any headache.

After several minutes of this, Lucius sighed in relief.

"Better?" she asked him.

"It's gone," he remarked in amazement.

"Good." Hermione rose off the bed to clean up and put away her supplies. "I should get going."

He rose up on his elbows. "You can stay here. You don't have to leave."

Her heart skipped a beat, but she declined, "I'm grateful for the offer, but I can't."

He lay back down.

"Thank you, again. For your idea," she said.

"No. Thank _you_."

She didn't know what to say. Slightly swaying on her feet, she bent over him. His pupils dilated as he anticipated her next move silently. Hermione lightly brushed her lips over his cheek, lingering for a moment before puling away. She really wanted to kiss him and the temptation was ten times stronger now than it was in his grandmother's library. Why was that? Was it because this room oozed of sexual memories? He kissed her here for the first time and showed her what a real orgasm felt like.

Sighing in disappointment, she moved away from him and quickly left the room before she lost the will to do so. Maybe she was lying to herself. Maybe she was ready for the next level. But she needed to hear an apology from him first.

The next day, she returned to her new job at the National Library of Witchcraft and Wizardry in Diagon Alley, better known as the Old Dominion. While her case against W.E.T.M.C. was pending, she was lucky enough to find this position. At least she wasn't financially dependent on the outcome of her case or on Lucius. This Monday her shift was from opening until three, which gave her plenty of time to meet up with Kelsey by five. Last night, during a prolonged owl exchange, everyone enthusiastically approved of Fire and Ice theme and the rest of the tasks were distributed. Harry and Ron were in charge of selling tickets and hiring a band; Ginny was in charge of publicity; Kelsey volunteered to take care of catering and menu, which left Hermione with picking venue and decorating, mostly due to the fact that no one else wanted those assignments.

After she finished up her shift, Hermione visited Park Lane and inquired at Grosvenor House Hotel about booking the Great Room for the ball. Fortunately, it was available for the night of May first and she quickly reserved it. Feeling incredibly accomplished, she hurried to inform the rest of the planning committee and then rushed off to meet with Kelsey by the austere steps of Old Dominion.

To her surprise, the witch was already there, waiting for her.

"I just shivered!" Kelsey dramatically announced, cuddling more into her coat. "Someone must be touching my ball gown. We have to go buy it before someone beats me to it!"

Hermione was perplexed. "We? Why we? You wrote to me last night that we had to meet up today to do something urgent for the ball."

"It is. We have to find our gowns. We don't have much time, you know. Once the publicity blitz will start, everyone will be out shopping." Kelsey weaved through throng of people, pulling Hermione behind her.

"I don't want a new dress if I'm going by myself," Hermione said.

"You can still look and try things on. You won't be going to formal events alone forever, you know."

"But what's the point now? I _am_ going to Fire and Ice all alone," she argued with the blonde.

"Hey! Who says you need a new dress only if you're going with a date? I'm going alone and I'm going to look fabulous. Besides, how do you know your lush hubby won't ask you?" She wagged her eyebrows at Hermione.

"I doubt it. He was helpful enough to come up with a theme and all, but I don't think he'll ask me. But it's for the best. I'm completely losing control around him. Last night I almost kissed him."

"Almost kissed your husband? You big hussy!" Kelsey sarcastically exclaimed, her bright blue eyes dancing with amusement.

Hermione smirked at her. "I'm a little conflicted on whether or not I'm ready for things to become more romantic."

"How so?"

They walked through the doors of Twilfitt and Tattings and Hermione tried to explain as she followed her friend around the dress racks, "Now that I know him better, I am more attracted to him than I ever was before."

"But?" Kelsey prompted.

"But I'm afraid to fall for him and have my heart stomped on all over again. What if … you know…"

"What if he'll hurt you again?" Kelsey guessed, examining a sparkling aquamarine gown. "You can't worry about 'what ifs'. I mean, what if we have a horrible accident tomorrow? Should we just huddle in our homes from now on and avoid the world for fear something awful might happen if we step out the front door?"

"Well, no. That's just silly."

"Then there's your answer. Being hurt is part of the package of falling in love. We all take those chances."

Hermione knew she would have to voice what's really bothered her about her current situation. "I know, but … I don't think he understands that he did anything wrong. That's what keeps nagging me. It's not like we've avoided the subject. We have discussed it since Enchanted Peaks, but in none of those conversations did he ever apologize. According to _Shattered Vows,_ a sincere apology is an important step. It shows that your partner is remorseful and is taking responsibility for what happened. Blaming other people — like his ex-wife, in our case — is not helpful. It's the only thing that's holding me back from becoming more involved with him right now. He's read the same book, so he knows it's one of the steps; therefore, it can only mean that he still beliefs he was a 'victim of unfortunate circumstances'. I'm using his exact phrase here. You remember what Ron and Harry said at our last meeting about it? In a nutshell, that's how Lucius views the situation."

Kelsey shrugged. "So wait until he sees your point, or the book's point. If he just wanted to check off all the steps, he would have offered an apology by now, even an insincere one. If he called himself a 'victim of unfortunate circumstances' last time you talked about this, it means he doesn't get it yet. All you can do is hold off on the dating stuff until he'll get it through his head. Thing is, he either has to come to this realization on his own time, or you have to come out and say that you'd like to move to the next level, but that's what's stopping you."

"I don't want him to feel like I'm demanding an apology," Hermione explained. "I want him to mean it. It's not about hearing the words, it's about hearing him admit he was responsible and that he regrets it. And that it'll never, ever happen again while we're married."

"Then, like I said, you'll have to wait until he comes to that conclusion on his own." Kelsey playfully held up a fuchsia organza gown in front of Hermione's body.

"No way," Hermione said, glaring at her. "But you're right about Lucius. He has to realize it himself. That's what _Shattered Vows_ says too."

Kelsey hung the dress back on the rack. "Forget that darn book for a second. Focus on gowns. Ooh, what about this?"

"I told you, I'm not…" Hermione lost her train of thought as she scanned the gown her former colleague dangled before her. It was a flowing sea-foam green chiffon with two slits up the sides.

"That's gorgeous," she softly said. She held up the dress to her body and looked into the nearby mirror. It felt so deliciously light to her touch and the color was very flattering against her skin. As Hermione stroked the fabric, she wondered what it would feel like to have Lucius touch her through it. Out of curiosity, she glanced at the price tag and shook her head. She didn't even know it was legal to charge that much for a dress.

"Stop looking at prices and just try it on," Kelsey encouraged her, her own arms laden with gowns of almost every color.

 _No harm in trying it on,_ Hermione reasoned and followed her into the fitting room.

When she emerged, Kelsey was already standing in front of the mirror in a gorgeous floor-length ball gown that wildly glittered with tiny sequins. The black provided a beautiful contrast against the witch's golden hair and fair skin.

"Wow! You look amazing!" she complimented her.

"You think? It definitely has possibilities, but I have too many little black dresses already."

Hermione gasped out as she gawked at herself in the mirror next to Kelsey. "It's so sheer. I feel so naked!"

"You look hot! Look at those legs you'll be flashing! The bodice isn't sheer, just the skirt."

Turning in full circle, Hermione scrutinized herself from every angle. "It's too long on me. It would look better on someone more statuesque, like you."

"They can always alter it."

Then Hermione heard a familiar, shrewd voice berating a sales clerk. She turned to confirm her initial impressions.

"Mrs. Swancombe!" she called out in surprise, stepping away from the mirror to greet the elderly witch.

"Oh, don't you look lovely, dear," Odette Swancombe said, eyeing Hermione's gown.

"Thank you. I'm just trying it on. My friend Kelsey is also here…"

Her heart skipped a beat when she caught the sight of Lucius with Draco on the other side of the shop.

Mrs. Swancombe followed her gaze and, to her horror, called out to them, "Lucius, look who is here!"

His gaze lifted up to them and he froze when he saw Hermione. She blushed as he continued to stare at her. The next thing she knew, he crossed to them and was standing before her.

"Well? Doesn't you wife look lovely?"

He looked at Hermione as though he's never seen a woman before. "Lovely? Yes … stunning. Botticelli's Birth of Venus."

Her blush deepened at his flustered tone. She never heard it before. "Um … thank you. I'm not sure it's my style." Her own voice was shaking.

He licked his lips and cleared his throat. "Well, it's very … becoming, nonetheless," he said.

"Hermione! Help needed over here! I can't figure out this snappy thing in the back!" Kelsey called out from the fitting room in panic.

Excusing herself, Hermione ran off to her friend's aid, shaking from her unexpected interaction with Lucius.

* * *

In an attempt to distract herself from what happened at Twilfitt and Tattings, Hermione went back to the library. She ended up in corner table on the third floor, leafing through the new Numerology volume that she shelved this morning.

A shadow fell over her and someone set down a book on the table. She stared at the title _Organometallic Chemistry of Transition Metals._ Hermione looked up to see Lucius standing over her.

What was he doing here? Was he looking for her?

"Is this seat taken?" he asked, gesturing the seat across from hers.

"No." She indicated to the other unoccupied tables in the area. "And neither are any of those."

"The light is better here."

Hermione lifted her propped feet off the chair across from her and he sat down.

Her heart was nearly beating out of her chest with happiness that he sought her out. For a several seconds, she stared at him, then lowered her head back to her book.

"Here," he said, patting his lap under the table.

She looked back up at him. "What?"

"Put your feet back."

"No," Hermione said in breathless whisper.

"It's how you like to read, don't you? No reason for you not to be comfortable."

"I'm fine," she murmured.

She was becoming uncomfortably warm again. Her head felt heavy and light at the same time. Her body kept tingling. Returning to her book, Hermione read – or rather she pretended to read. He was turning the pages more often than she was. It didn't matter though. She rather enjoyed watching him. Hermione loved the way his eyes moved across the page. She imagined them moving over her body like that. Lucius noticed her watching him and raised his head to look at her inquiringly, smirking slightly at the way she was studying him.

Hermione swallowed and glanced away from him. "I just thought that it's odd how you remained single until our wedding," she said, attempting to cover up her blatant observation of him.

He raised his eyebrows at her. "Why is it odd?"

She cleared her throat. "You weren't seeing anyone. There was no one affected by our spontaneous wedding."

"It's not odd. I simply didn't find anyone suitable enough to make me want to remarry. You didn't seem terribly interested in the position."

Tension-filled silence descended between them.

"We were meeting so briefly and not always under the most amicable of circumstances," he admitted. "I was always curious about you. I desired you. Sometimes during all those conferential debates, I'd picture what you'd look like naked. I'd imagine what you'd feel like, what you'd taste like…"

"You shouldn't say such things to me," Hermione chided him.

"Why? We're married. And now I know all those things about you." He paused and gave her a salacious once over. "Almost all."

She stood up so rapidly she became dizzy. "I need to put this back," she said, grabbing her book and bolting away from him.

She found a dark aisle and leaned against a bookshelf. She couldn't allow herself to rush into the physical stuff again. Although she yearned to feel his hands and mouth on her, she was still apprehensive about the rest of it. Hermione wasn't eager to feel him become rough again. Even though she did enjoy one of the positions they've tried that night, the rest of it wasn't really to her liking. What if it was always like that?

Lucius came out of the shadows to stand before her.

"What's wrong?" he asked her, sweeping her hair out of her face.

"Nothing," she responded, turning away from him.

He molded his body to hers, protectively cushioning her body against his. He wrapped his arms around her waist.

"It's not nothing," he said.

"Then it's everything. Everything is wrong and nothing is right."

He placed his mouth directly against her ear. "If it's in my power, I'll make it right. Tell me what you want and I'll do it."

Hermione shuddered against him with desire. "I can't," she chocked out. "You should let me go."

"No. I don't want to let you go. Come home with me. Stay the night."

She was about to decline his offer, but gasped when his hands slid to her bottom and gave her a firm squeeze before running back up to cup her breasts. His lips found her neck and she urgently pressed herself against him. Lucius pulled away from her and turned her in his arms to face him. The smoldering glow of his eyes caused her to sway. Savage desire sparked between them. He whispered her name before he lowered his mouth to hers, tenderly kissing her. Giving in to the irresistible urge, she kissed him back, rubbing her chest against his.

His hands combed over her sweater, covering her breasts with his palms. "I want to see you naked again. You are so beautiful." He kissed her again. "I want to be deep inside you. Surrounded by you."

He moved his pelvis against her provocatively and Hermione broke away from him. Shaking and breathless, she told him, "I think we should go."

She went back to their table, slipped into her coat and gathered her things.

"If I was too forward—"

"You weren't. I just …" She rubbed her forehead wearily. "I need more time."

"Hermione, I feel like I'm doing something wrong. You never want to be alone with me. Are you afraid of me?" he demanded in alarm.

"No, of course not," she responded to his words with a negative shake of her head. "But you've read the book I gave you."

"Yes. And?" he prompted, frowning.

"If I have to tell you, then you still don't get it."

Maintaining her rigid composure, she wished him a good evening and walked away, feeling completely miserable. Her emotions were so conflicting, and she didn't know how to deal with any of them.

* * *

 **Sigh… falling for Lucius is never easy.**


	12. Chapter 12

**This chapter is dedicated to Not Romeo's Juliette. Hope your days have improved since my last update!**

* * *

Hermione cringed as she slowly made her way towards the door.

"Who is it?" she called out, as another cramp shot through her.

"Your loving husband," came Lucius's familiar haughty notes.

"Just a second!"

She wished he'd let her know he was coming so she could put on something other than her standard stay-at-home uniform of yoga crop pants and faded cotton tank top.

 _Oh, well, might as well kill all the romance before the divorce._

Opening the door, she waved him through.

"Grandmaman said you owled that you can't make it do dinner," he said in lieu of a greeting. "Are you ill?"

It had been almost a week since she'd seen Lucius in Old Dominion. As much as she appreciated his concern, the last thing Hermione wanted right now was to remain upright and have this conversation.

"Sort of."

"Do you require a Healer?" he asked, his eyes traveling over her body in quick examination.

Hermione almost laughed. "No," she said, shaking her head. "It's not a Healer-required illness. It's more of a monthly feminine problem."

Lucius looked relieved. "Why didn't you say so? Hermione, I've been married before, I know about menstrual cycles. You don't have to pretend your discomfort is an illness."

This was new to her. Guys her age normally became uncomfortable and changed the topic at any mention of periods, and she learned early on that the less details she shared, the better.

"Then you won't mind if I just get back to bed now? Standing upright is a bit of an ordeal. I'm in imminent danger of curling up into a fetal position."

"Then to bed you go," Lucius said, picking her up and carrying her into the bedroom. He pulled back the covers and laid her gently down.

She laughed. "You didn't have to carry me. I'm not in _that_ much pain," she joked.

"Do you need anything?" he asked, as he stood awkwardly by her bedside.

"Just a cure for this problem. If you can invent a formula for reproducing gold and silver in your lab, surely you can come up with a remedy for cramps that involves chocolate with strawberry filling."

"I don't know about chocolate, but I've lived with enough women to know of quite a few natural remedies for this," Lucius said.

"Like what? I'll try anything."

"Ginger and cinnamon tea?" he suggested.

"I'll give it a shot. Can't hurt."

"Kitchen?" he asked.

Hermione gestured to her door. "On the other side of the leaving room."

He came back a little while later and kept her company while she sipped the hot liquid.

"While it's kicking in, I need a distraction. Tell me about your day," she said.

He rubbed the back of his neck. "It was rather bothersome. The Ministry clowns did another impromptu inspection."

She frowned. "Why do they keep doing that?"

"I don't have to tell you that they're not exactly happy with my experiments. When the Ministry no longer has a monopoly on the gold in the country, they become a little perturbed."

Hermione recalled Harry and Ron's warnings.

"Lucius, that's the second time this month. That's way up from once every three. Doesn't the increase alarm you? What if it means something?"

He shrugged. "It means it's a slow month for them. I wouldn't read too much into it."

Worry tugged at her stomach. "It's an odd coincidence, that's all."

His eyebrow twitched up. "What's a coincidence?"

Hermione sat aside her empty tea cup and shifted on her bed to sit up more. "Harry and Ron mentioned something about Ministry being unhappy with your endeavors during our first ball planning meeting. Ron even said there was a possibility of you going to Azkaban. At the time, I didn't think anything of it because it sounded ridiculous, but now with increased inspections … I'm starting to think maybe their warnings weren't so exaggerated."

"I know that frown, Hermione. Don't you dare let this worry you. It's nothing."

"What if you … I don't know … decreased production for a while? If you weren't producing so much of it, maybe they wouldn't feel so threatened."

"Hermione, I told you not to be concerned about it. I'm not about to alter my life's work to please some Ministry sops. It is my life's purpose; the only thing that gives me pleasure."

Her heart trembled. His words wounded her somehow. Something else was giving him more purpose and happiness than she ever could and it made her feel useless in comparison. She could never hope to give him something even close to that. Noticing that her husband was watching her, she tried to assume an air of indifference.

He smiled. "I should say it _used to be_ the only thing that gave me pleasure."

"I'm not going to try to tell you what to do," Hermione added with excessive haste. "But something's not right about all this. Do you not feel as though these inspections are a veiled threat?"

"I can handle anything they'll try. I don't want you to worry about a thing. You have enough on your plate now."

"No, I don't," she retorted. "My W.E.T.M.C. hearing is only scheduled for September. All I have is a library job and it's hardly challenging enough to make stop worrying about the weather, much less this."

He took a seat next to her. "Hermione, I told you before, come work with me until this business is sorted out."

"That's nepotism, Lucius. You know I can't accept it."

"But you're perfectly qualified. I wouldn't offer this opportunity to someone who had no skills for it," he argued, his eyes turning to cold steel. "When I showed you around, you understood the intricacies of the process. With some practice, you could master it easily."

Another cramp seized her and Hermione weakly nodded. "I promise to give it serious consideration."

Lucius's brow creased in apprehension. "You're not feeling any better, are you?"

"As delicious as it was, I feel no different," Hermione admitted. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize." He leaned over and gave her a light kiss on her cheek. "There's always a hot bath," he suggested.

She winced. "I'd rather not stew in my own blood."

"It won't be like that. The heat from a mineral bath will bring blood flow to the pelvic area to relax the muscles."

Hermione hoisted herself off the bed and shuffled off toward the bathroom. "Okay, I do hear that hot baths help, so sure. Why not? If I'm not out in twenty, come rescue me."

After half an hour of soaking in the tub, her situation hasn't improved much. At his knock, she gave him permission to enter.

"It didn't help much, did it?" he inquired.

"Sadly, no. If I have to be in pain, I'd rather not be wet."

He rolled up the sleeve of his shirt. Even in her state of agony, Hermione found the movement to be incredibly seductive.

"There's one remedy we haven't tried yet," he said, swirling his fingers in the water as he kneeled down in front of the tub.

"And what's that?" she asked. Her eyes were glued to his hand, which came to rest on her knee.

"Orgasms, dear." His hand slowly slid from her knee to her thigh.

Hermione panicked, slipping lower into the water. "You do know I'm bleeding down there, right? And by bleeding, I don't mean a few drops, I mean there's a flood of blood."

"Good thing you're in a tub full of water then," he said with a wink.

"But … it's not sanitary," she argued back.

He removed his hand. "If the idea really repulses you…" his voice trailed off.

"No, no, no! It doesn't repulse me. I thought you'd be the one repulsed."

Lucius's expression was impossible to read. "I wouldn't have offered if I was."

"Then … I'd like to give it a try," she breathed out, parting her legs as much as she could.

"Very well." He slid his hand back into the water, tickling down her thigh before he reached his desired destination and cupped her mound before he rubbed two fingers up and down her slit.

Hermione couldn't stifle her moan as her hands gripped the edge of the tub. This reminded her of the first time he made her come. She had forgotten how good it felt to have him touch her like this.

"Lucius? Do you remember the first time we did this?"

"Yes," he hissed into her ear. "It was snowing. We were in the bedroom, on my bed. You had on a sexy little dress. I don't think anyone has ever made me so hard without a single touch … only with a single kiss. I wanted you so badly my cock ached for days."

She gasped in delight, her inhibitions quickly fading at his words and intimate touches. Her eyes locked with his. Heat wave seared through her body with massive magnitude. Her hips rose up in rhythm to his strokes. She had never felt so vulnerable in her life. Looking into his eyes, Hermione found herself trusting him. In this moment, he wasn't the man who had any secret agendas to pursue; he looked like a man who wanted to push her past her inhibitions to give her pleasure and take away the pain. She continued to watch him with wide eyes. Her breath quickened as he stroked over her clit.

Her hand shot out of the water to grip at his shoulder, wetting his shirt with soapy water. He slid the finger again over the engorged nub, adding more pressure. Hermione whined and lifted her hips more, not caring that the movement caused water to splash over the edge. Sliding his fingers back inside her, he pumped them faster, massaging his fingertips over her g-spot. Her head fell back as the electric sensation shot through her. Each stroke caused Hermione to squirm more with need until her legs shook uncontrollably. She was hovering on the precipice of pleasure as each calculated touch strummed through her body, building upon her strain of pleasure.

She couldn't think. She could only tremble and await for that final push to send her careening over the edge.

Then it happened. He swirled his thumb over her clit while he thrust and twisted his fingers inside her in a circular motion. Her world exploded in sheer pleasure as her bathroom splintered into tiny pieces around her. Wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over her as she shook and tugged at his shirt. By the time she could feel the lukewarm water around her again, her vision returned to normal and the cramps that were torturing her all day were gone.

Lucius looked rather pleased with himself when their eyes connected once more.

"Did the remedy help?" he queried.

"Very much. Thank you." Her gaze fell to the hand that still clutched at his shirt. "I'm sorry I ruined your shirt."

He smirked. "Oh, it doesn't mind. Let's get you dry before you prune up on me."

"Wait," Hermione said through lethargy that was sipping into her limbs. "I lied to you. I was jealous about what happened. You're my husband and I hated seeing you with anyone else. That's why it hurt so much … why it still hurts." Tears prickled her eyes at the memory.

"I never meant to hurt you. I swear to you it'll never happen again. It was a horrible mistake. One I intend to never repeat as long as we're married. I'm sorry I hurt you so much. I've never asked for forgiveness from anyone before, but I am asking it of you now. Hermione, I don't want a three-year arrangement or a five-year arrangement. I don't want a contract marriage with you. I want our marriage to be real. I want us to be real. " The sincerity in his voice and eyes was too real to ignore.

The barbed wires that gripped her heart all these months finally unraveled one by one, and Hermione felt herself give in to her forgiveness.

"I want that too. I want a new beginning for us," she confessed, her heart lurching at the thought. "I forgive you. Just as long as this never happens again."

"You have my word," he promised. "If you'll ever see me with another woman, feel free to cut off my manhood." His hand stroked her cheek. "I know I can't take back what happened but, if you'll let me, I'd like to spend the rest of my life making it up to you."

"I don't want this hanging over us for quite that long," she said, half-joking.

"Now let's get you dry. You must be hungry."

"I do have a craving for avocado eggrolls," she said as she got out of the tub and wrapped a towel around herself, feeling somewhat bashful being naked around him while he was still fully dressed.

A guilty thought occurred to her. "Um, what about you?" she asked, looking pointedly at his trousers.

Lucius looked at her through a mirror above the sink as he nonchalantly washed his hands. "What about me?" He smirked.

"Don't you expect me to reciprocate? It's only fair."

He chuckled and wiped his hands on a towel. "I do, but let's save it for another night. Tonight was all about you. But I know how you can pay me back."

"How?"

"By coming to a Quidditch match with me on Saturday." He punctuated his statement with a love bite on her lower lip. "The Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports invited us over for a post-match cocktails and dinner. It would be cruel of you to make me suffer through that all alone and unaccompanied."

"I'd be a very bad wife if I did," Hermione said, smiling at him.

He kissed her once more, teasing her sensually with his tongue. "I'll be by at two then."

She wrapped her arms around his waist. "I look forward to it. However, we do have a more pressing matter for tonight."

The corner of his mouth twitched up. "And that would be… ?"

"Will you be staying over? Please?" she asked, looking into his eyes with hope. Not that she hoped for anything to happen given her current condition, but she wasn't ready to part from him yet.

"I'd be a very bad husband if I didn't."

That night was the first time she slept with her husband in the same bed. As he slept, she watched the interplay of shadows and flickering flames from the dying fire in the hearth across his face. Her hand came up to trace the outline of his lips. In his sleep, he drew her close, coiling their legs together.

This was the intimacy she craved from him all along.

For the first time since their marriage, Hermione felt truly married.

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 **A silver lining, but a few dark clouds as well on the horizon, but things are improving for our couple … slowly.**

 **Thank you all for your reviews and support. You guys are the best!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Thank you all for reading and reviewing! Hope everyone's having a great Friday.**

 **Onward! Things are heating up for our couple … in more ways than one :D**

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"You slept together?" Kelsey squealed over the catalogues of catering packages.

Hermione sharply ribbed her friend. "Shh! Do you want them to hear you?" She gestured towards Harry, Ron, and Ginny, who were testing the acoustics for the band at the other end of the ballroom.

Kelsey tossed aside the leaflets of appetizers and gave Hermione her full attention. "Sorry, sorry. So what happened? Was it better than the first time?"

"We didn't have sex! Gosh, you have a dirty mind. It was just nice to finally sleep together in the same bed."

"But you have slept together in the same bed before," the perky blonde pointed out. "You told me you woke up naked together on New Year's."

"Passing out together and having my memory impaired from Ginny's shabby spell work is not the same as falling asleep together," Hermione explained, trying to keep her dreamy expression in check.

Kelsey's eyes twinkled with merriment. "I get it. So does it mean things are better?"

"It's too early to tell." Hermione shrugged. "But we're heading in the right direction."

"Guess that means we have to go dress shopping again!" Kelsey cheered.

"Don't get too carried away. He still didn't ask me." Hermione couldn't keep the disappointment out of her voice.

"Now that you have a fresh start together, why don't you ask him?" her friend suggested.

"Let's just see how Saturday will go."

Ginny looked up at them. "Saturday? What about Saturday?"

"Oh, nothing. Lucius and I are just going to a Quidditch match. We've been invited by Mr. Frowde to a dinner after."

"Balthazar Frowde? The Head of the Magical Games and Sports Balthazar Frowde?" Ginny asked, her eyes wide.

"Yes."

"Wonder why he's chummy with Malfoy?" Ron wondered aloud.

His attitude irked Hermione. "Why wouldn't he be? Lucius is on the board of directors of Quidditch Association and wizard golf."

"Not for long," he sneered.

"What do you mean?" Hermione snapped.

"Nothing."

"No, seriously. Tell me," she insisted.

Harry took a deep breath. "The Auror Office is investigating him."

"What? Why?" Hermione's panicked, whiny tone sounded foreign to her ears.

"Some concerns have been raised by certain members of the Ministry who think he's been violating the new law that restricts gold ownership and trade," Harry replied.

"But he hasn't. What proof do they have?" she questioned.

Harry shrugged. "Some undercover reports from Knockturn Alley confirm suspicious activity. That's why his lab has undergone so many inspections. Kingsley thinks he'll grow overconfident and slip up, then they'll have something concrete."

"Meaning they don't have anything but hearsay to go on," Hermione concluded with mild annoyance. "This is completely illegal then."

"It's not," Ron interjected. "Under the Auror constitution, Aurors is allowed to use its full resources to investigate any Dark Wizard if there is enough reasonable suspicion. Undercover reports confirm that there is enough reasonable suspicion. Just because you're married to him doesn't make him suddenly a paragon of virtue."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I know that." She turned to Harry. "How worried should I be?"

"I can't tell you much about it; the information is classified. But I guess there's no harm in alerting you to just be on your guard. Tell him not to overstep the boundaries of law. I know he thinks he can outwit everyone in the Ministry and do whatever he wants, but the Auror Office are not Ministry morons. My colleagues aren't as incompetent as the officials Malfoy's used to buying off. If nothing's found to collaborate the Knockturn Alley reports, then he's in the clear. But if evidence is found to confirm them … then he has to appear for a hearing before the Wizangamot."

Hermione shivered. Selfishly, she cursed the timing of these events. Just when things were beginning to look up for her and Lucius, this had to happen!

Did Lucius know how serious these events were, or was he playing them down for her benefit?

She had a sinking feeling that should she confront him, he would just tell her not to worry again. Although she wasn't some hot-house flower that needed protection from the harsh elements, he was too traditionally set in his ways to confide in her about the downsides of his business matters. Hermione supposed the witches he was used never expressed much interest in such unpleasantries. If her battle to get him to see a Healer about his headaches was anything to go by, confronting Lucius directly was certainly not the most successful path to achieve the desired result.

Of course, there was a way she could steer him indirectly and be involved in the details of these mysterious proceedings…

* * *

On Saturday, Hermione answered Lucius's knock on her door with a high excitement and anticipation.

"You look great," she said, taking in the robes that matched the stormy-sky color of his eyes.

"So do you," he smoothly returned. "Are you feeling better?"

"Much," Hermione answered. "It's only the first couple of days that tortures me. The rest is breeze. But here, have a seat." She gestured to the sofa behind her. "I want to talk to you about something."

"Those are the most dreaded words in the English language," he remarked, but did as she had suggested.

She gave him a smile. "It's not dreadful, I assure you." He waited for her to continue, clearly not one for small-talk. "Well, I promised you that I would consider your offer. I have and I'd really like to do it. Of course, I feel a tad unqualified, but at least it's more challenging than shelving."

A cocksure smile slowly spread on his lips. "Excellent. On Monday, we'll go over your contract at the lab. Personally. And then, the real challenge will begin. You'll love it."

Slowly, she exhaled, amazed how quickly he went along with her plan. She opened her mouth to say something, but Lucius closed the gap between them and gently kissed her. Hermione opened her mouth, allowing his tongue to gently meet hers. She couldn't get enough of him. It always amazed her how he instinctively knew exactly how to kiss her to match her mood. He could be gentle and patient or rough and demanding at the drop of a hat.

Only when she was red-faced and oxygen-deprived did Hermione pull back from him.

"I planned to do this differently, but no time like the present," he said, then sneered. "That sounded like my awful marriage proposal."

"Good thing I don't remember it," she joked.

He didn't seem amused by her sense of humor. The next second he kneeled before her and conjured up a single pink rose. Hermione's heart pounded as she wondered what he would ask of her. A horrifying thought occurred to her that he might be asking her to move back into the Manor with him. It's not something she was ready for, but she hated to turn him down and ruin the camaraderie they've been building these last few months. In vain she searched for an escape route. But unless she wanted to jump down from her living room window, she was trapped.

Lucius took a deep breath.

 _Oh, no, here it comes!_

She steeled herself for a way to let him down gently.

 _I will be strong. I have to say no. We are not ready for that again._

He couldn't possibly think they were ready to take the next step, could he? Certainly, he took the responsibility for Enchanted Peaks incident, which was a good leap up from his weak excuses, but living together again … Hermione had forgiven him, yes. However, moving back in again was an entirely different matter. But what if he had misunderstood her again?

"Hermione, I know I let you down before and you said you have forgiven me. But have you forgiven me enough to go to the ball with me?" He looked uncertain as though he was expecting Hermione to turn him down. Her heart nearly melted at the look of longing on his face. Never had she seen him look more vulnerable.

She closed her eyes in happiness and relief. _Fire and Ice Ball! Of course!_ Why didn't she think of it?

Hermione couldn't suppress her smile if she tried. "Yes," she told him giddily, accepting his rose. "I'd love to go to the ball with you!"

Lucius looked stunned and elated all at once.

"You know we're doing everything backwards," he grumbled after kissing her again. "I went down on my knee to ask for your hand to the ball, not to marry me. We've married before we've even courted. This is just all backwards."

She held the rose up to her nose, taking in the delicate scent. Her heart purred in contentment. This truly was a new beginning for them. "So what? I like that," she said softly, touching the soft petals of the rose.

Lucius stood up and pulled her into his arms, pressing her against him in a tight embrace. Hermione closed her eyes, absorbing the seductive scent of his cologne. Then he lowered his face to hers, melding their lips in a fiery kiss.

When they could avoid it no more, they finally departed for the match. Feeling overjoyed, Hermione wondered how she would be able to sit through the whole match. But by the time they arrived to their box seats, she had composed herself. She greeted Mr. Frowde and his wife, making polite small-talk with the latter as the former drew Lucius into a discussion about the current season and which team had the greatest chance of winning the League Cup.

Although she wasn't much interested in the match, Hermione enjoyed the early spring weather. Despite the northern breeze, sun felt glorious on her skin. She settled in and attempted to pay more attention to the pitch than to her handsome husband. Hermione didn't want to make her ogling too obvious. However, Lucius's witty comments that peppered the match made her task incredibly difficult.

"That Keeper has blocking in his blood," Mr. Frowde said in praise of Puddlemere United's Keeper.

"You may be right," Lucius responded, then whispered to Hermione, "but unfortunately, it hasn't reached his hands yet."

Hermione threw her head back and laughed. For the first time since their marriage, she felt like they were completely relaxed with each other. The more she laughed, the more snark Lucius dished. Because Hermione didn't care much for Quidditch, it really entertained her and helped her enjoy the match even during lulls in the game.

By the time the first hour flew by, she had grown rather warm beneath her cloak. When she removed it, she couldn't help but notice how Lucius's attention to the match flagged and he became quite restless, not missing any opportunity to make the slightest contact with her. His eyes acquired a wild, reckless look in them that caused Hermione to nearly melt in her seat.

When one of the teams scored, the crowd around rose to its feet, frenzy with cheers. Lucius, however, leaned closer to her, one of his hands capturing her own and raising it to his mouth. He sensually kissed each knuckle before trailing his lips up her arm until he reached her shoulder.

"I don't think you're paying attention to the match, Mr. Malfoy," she teased him.

"It's all your fault," he responded in her ear. "You are very distracting in this dress." His hand freed hers and moved to caress her knee.

"Now you're taking an unfair advantage."

His breath in her ear and on her cheek felt like the sweetest caress as he said, "My favorite kind."

"You are bad. I have to warn you: your charm won't pave your way back into my knickers so easily."

"As delightful as that destination sounds, I aim to lay siege to another part of your body."

She looked down at his hand on her knee. "You're giving everyone quite a show, you know."

"Then let's give them something to talk about," Lucius said. He drew her into his embrace without any awkwardness, as though they displayed their affection in public every day, and kissed with the hunger of a starving man. After her initial shock subsided, Hermione found her arms around his neck, kissing him back just as ardently.

"We could always skip the match and have our own little one on one right here," he whispered lasciviously.

Blushing, she brushed him aside. "Later," she said. Sometimes when he looked at her with such undisguised desire, a strange force gripped her. Hermione felt naked, her breasts tightening beneath her dress. She wanted to close her eyes to escape the heat of his. His confident smirk told her that he enjoyed causing her this discomposure, enjoyed knowing that he had this provocative effect on her.

He turned his attention back to the pitch, but his hand remained possessively on her knee for the rest of the match. For a little while Hermione was able to forget her conversation with Harry and focus on her new happiness.

* * *

The Frowde cocktail party was as dull as Lucius had predicted it would be. Shortly after greeting their hosts, Lucius whisked her off into Mr. Frowde's private study.

She smiled at the billiard table and raised her eyebrow at Lucius. "You any good?"

His signature cocky smirk reappeared. "As far as you're concerned, I'm the grand master. Would you care to find out?"

"Sure. I'd be a boring opponent. I'm completely rubbish," she confessed.

He handed her a cue stick. "We'll see. Why don't you break? If you know how…"

She scowled at him and bumped him out of the way with her hip and bent down to make a passable break. Lucius made no move to hide his leer when she caught him staring at her bum.

He casually walked around the table and confidently pocketed two balls with one shot.

 _Show-off._

Next time he concentrated on a shot, she hiked up her dress and bent over as she reached for the cue chalk. He missed his shot.

"You sneaky wench. You did that on purpose," he complained.

She winked at him. "You have your tricks and I have mine."

She missed her next shots and he easily potted the rest of the balls.

"How would you like to make the next game more interesting?" he asked, setting up the balls in the center table.

"Depends. What would it involve?"

"Every time you miss a shot, I get a kiss."

She bit her lip. Here was an incentive to lose, if she ever heard of one.

"Okay," she agreed. "But only if the same rules apply to you too."

He nodded. "Fair is fair." He gestured for her to go first.

She walked around the table, considering what she should do. As much as she wanted to feel his lips on hers again, Hermione wanted to make it more difficult for him. When she passed by him, he ran his hand lightly over her hip.

"By all means, take your time," Lucius drawled. "I'd hate it if you missed."

"It'll be a miracle if I pull this off and you know it!" Concentrating, she made her shot, pocketing her first ball.

When he took his shot, she stood next to him and suggestively grazed her leg against his. He missed, conceding the first kiss.

He frowned at her. "I think this may have to be considered a foul."

"All's fair in love and war."

Lucius chuckled. "We'll see about that." He stood behind her as she took her next shot and the unmistakable evidence of his arousal firmly against her.

She gasped, her arm shook a little as she missed her shot by a mile. She turned to him before the ball had even stopped moving and kissed him, moving her lips deliciously against his. He teased her lips intimately and seductively. His hand came up to cup her cheek, prolonging the kiss, knowing that the minute of its destruction was close.

At his turn, he took another trick shot that sank all balls but the last one.

"I'm not giving up yet," Hermione said against his lips. At this point, billiards interrupted by occasional kisses transformed into kisses disrupted by billiards.

"Please, don't," he purred.

She lingered in his arms, then moved away to pocket her last shot.

Lucius pulled her into his arms again. "I believe I am the victor and I want to collect my winnings. Right. Now." He leaned in and passionately kissed her, running his hand over her breast. His fingers teased her over the top of her dress. He continued to kiss her, softly nibbling on her neck as he moved lower.

Just as Hermione was about to lose herself in the heat of the moment, the door opened.

"Ah, there you are, Lucius. I was hoping for a word with you," Mr. Frowde said. He sounded amicable enough, but Hermione was filled with foreboding as he closed the door behind him.

"We were just admiring your study, Balthazar," Lucius said in congenial tone, reluctantly parting from Hermione.

"Yes, it's beautiful, Mr. Frowde, like the rest of the house," Hermione added.

He cleared his throat. "Thank you. The Ministry owns the house, as you know, but when I was appointed to my post, Caroline redecorated it. Mrs. Malfoy, do you mind excusing us for a bit?"

Hermione nodded and edged her way toward the door, but Lucius pulled her back.

"Anything you have to say, Balthazar, you can say in front of my wife."

She felt a surge of pride rush through her. Moving to stand beside him, she protectively linked her arm through his and turned to look at Mr. Frowde.

"I do not doubt, Lucius, that you are one of the greatest alchemists of our achievements do lend the country distinction. However, this private trade with gold and silver raises quite a few discomfited brows. Moreover, the Ministry is having a difficult time understanding your reproduction process. Some assume that Dark Arts are involved in recreating the natural composition of those elements."

A tense silence had descended over the room.

"Balthazar, you know better than to believe rumors," Lucius admonished his acquaintance. "You do recall how when my marriage became public everyone thought there was an unplanned pregnancy involved. Alas, we stand before you childless."

"It's more than rumors, Lucius. The Aurors are involved. There is talk that they may have something substantial on you."

Lucius remained unfazed by Mr. Frowde's announcement. "Good grief, Balthazar, they're bluffing. If they had anything of substance, they would have already summoned me before the Wizangamot. Yet all they can do is continue to make silly excursions to my lab."

"Lucius, I thought as a longtime family friend, I should warn you to be on your guard." He threw a glance at Hermione. "The nature of this marriage has caused many suspicions, don't give the Aurors anymore reason to pry into your affairs."

Hermione noticed a tick in Lucius's jaw that signaled his irritation. "My marriage? What does my marriage have to do with anything?"

Frowde swallowed nervously. "It is no secret that you have never held Miss Granger, nor her parentage, in high regard. Suddenly, you're married to each other. Some suspect Imperius Curse."

A snort escaped Hermione and she covered her reaction with a false cough and a quick apology.

"Thank you for your hospitality, Balthazar," Lucius said, pulling Hermione towards the door. "And do convey our regards to Caroline."

He flung open the door and strode out, rushing through the party with Hermione in tow. She noticed few heads turning to look at them, but he hardly noticed anyone. Her only hope was that her knees would stop trembling long enough for them to make it to their Portkey. Hermione could see that Lucius was intent on having his way in defiance of all the warnings for caution. Why couldn't he see that by arousing Ministry's suspicions, he was playing with fire? He didn't need another upheaval in his life. Why couldn't he see that? Or was he choosing not to see it? A man of his sharp intelligence couldn't be so short-sighted, could he?

The earlier feeling of foreboding returned to Hermione. She felt like their new beginning has just been tainted with something sinister.


	14. Chapter 14

**Update! Thank you all, newbies and veterans alike. You have been a wonderful support :)**

 ***Disclaimer: All characters and canon situations belong to J.K. Rowling. I make no profit by writing and posting this story.**

* * *

"Lucius, slow down," Hermione cautioned, as they raced from the Portkey to a secluded place where Lucius parked.

He slowed down, but didn't speak. She knew Mr. Frowde's revelation about the nature of gossip surrounding their marriage incensed him. The insinuation that he may have used an Imperius Curse on her was a step too far. Hermione knew from personal experience that he didn't take accusations of coercion well.

"Aren't you going the wrong way?" she tentatively asked when he made a turn for the outskirts of London.

"I thought we'd go to dinner first," he said.

"Dinner? You've got to be joking. I told you about what Harry and Ron said at our first Ball planning meeting and now Mr. Frowde tells you the same thing! Something's definitely not right, and we're just going to sit through dinner? As though we have no care in the world?"

His head jerked in her direction and she nearly shivered under the sparks of anger shooting from his eyes. "Yes," he snarled. "What are we supposed to do? Starve?"

Hermione abandoned her plans of subtlety and circumspection and pressed him, "Why won't you talk to me about it? Stop telling me not to worry. I can only not worry when I know what's going on. I am your wife. I will support you in any way I can, but I have to KNOW!"

"I do not want my wife to meddle in my affairs," he coldly responded.

"Meddle? We're married! Everything that affects you, affects me! But you call it meddling?" She crossed her arms over her chest and turned her head away from him. "It's Enchanted Peaks all over again," she muttered.

Cursing under his breath, Lucius sharply turned into another lane. His anger only fueled hers. How dare he call her concern meddling? After everything they've been through, he still didn't understand that they were a team, and a team requires teamwork, not one person holding all the cards and telling another not to worry.

Shortly, Lucius slammed on the brakes in front of a building which Hermione had only seen once in her life.

"Why are we here?" she asked him.

His burning eyes drilled into hers. "You'll see."

She followed him inside, into the darkest, strange rooms below ground. A burnt metallic odor greeted her nostrils as they descended closer into the heart of Lucius's laboratory. He whispered an incantation and the heavy metal bars scraped from the door, releasing it from the lock.

Among the flasks and tubes, stood three giant caldrons.

"Do you remember what I told you when we were here last?" he asked her. His voice hard and unreadable.

"Yes, but I don't see how this is relevant to our discussion…" she began.

He cut her off, "This chatter of idle tongues disturbs you. It disturbs you because part of you believes it."

"It's hard not to believe _something_ is amiss when two different sources are telling you to be on your guard. I don't claim to know the details of your business, but something is not right when your friends and adversaries are giving you the same warnings," she concluded.

"Then watch. Afterwards, tell me if their warnings are justified."

He led her towards one of the cauldron and lit it, donning on a protective coat and gloves and handing the same equipment to Hermione. The intense heat from the cauldron and the acrid smell was intimidating at first, but her curiosity took over and she stepped to stand beside him. Last time he took her here, he never actually showed her the process; he had only given her a brief verbal description of it as he showed her around.

"Mercury and dragon's blood," he explained, stirring his wand in the hot, murky surface of the bubbling waters. "The combination create a regenerative substance." The contents of the cauldron turned black, then white as the heat was increased.

"Is that normal?" she asked.

"Perfectly," he confirmed. "From black to white. The process of transformation from death to resurrection. According to ancient philosophy, any substance must undergo this journey for before it can be reproduced as another."

"And then what?" Hermione asked, staring breathlessly into the cauldron. "How did you know what to do next?"

"You keep steadily stirring and adding heat until the liquid evaporates from the cauldron. The speed and pressure of your wand must never decrease, but be steadily increased. The minute you slow down, the process is ruined and you have to start all over," Lucius warned her. Then went on, "After years of searching and experimenting, I came to the right formula. Everyone said it was a myth. They said it couldn't be done. But I wanted to be first to do it. Under the influence of just the right temperature and dragon's blood, mercury transforms into sulfur, which then melts and dissolves into gold powder. Using this powder, I can cover the surface of metal objects and they transform immediately and permanently into aurum purum. Watch!"

After couple of hours, the liquid evaporated like ether, leaving behind a dusty layer of fine gold. In comparison to such a large cauldron and heavy mixture, the amount of gold powder that was yielded from the process appeared paltry.

Lucius carefully extracted his wand and summoned one of the old-fashioned iron keys from the decoration on the wall. Hermione watched in amazement as he took a fine-bristled brush and dipped it into the power in the cauldron. He carefully coated the rusty key in the brilliant powder, meticulous about covering the surface evenly without wasting any of that precious powder. The key glowed red. When the glow disappeared, the rusty old key looked like the finest object a goldsmith could ever hope to craft.

Weighting the key with her protective gloves, Hermione was astonished and overjoyed by the magic she had just witnessed.

"It's so … marvelous! With knowledge and skills, you've successfully created something that eluded so many wizards. It's so different to see it happen than just have it explained. To see it … what you do…" In exhilaration, her words ran dry.

In his element, Lucius Malfoy had never looked more noble and imperious. Hermione's heart ached from surging emotions.

She loved him. She loved her unusual husband … and she feared for him.

"And all without turning to Dark Arts," Lucius said with a wink. "Only my natural propensity to push the boundaries of magic, to explore and master its most difficult aspects, and create something lasting. A legacy of my own. You can understand that, can't you?" he asked in a gentle voice that charmed her.

"Of course," Hermione said quietly. "Unlike others, I never suspected Dark Arts in your endeavor. What concerns me most is what Harry said about some suspecting you of violating the Gold Trading Standards. I don't want you to brush aside that accusation like it was the same as all the others. In this case, I'd rather you be overcautious than overconfident."

"And you must trust that I am not so short-sighted as to ignore your concerns." He set the gold key into a small red velvet box. "I've learned not to underestimate people, my dear. Not even the Ministry minions. I just don't want this talk to worry you or make you doubt me."

He leaned toward her to help her out of her protective coat. His luxuriant blond hair touched her bare shoulder. He pressed his lips to her neck, and she shivered. He presented the velvet box to her.

"For me?" she chocked out, taking the box in her hands. She opened it to look at her very own sliver of his gold. A key. If she stopped to think on its symbolism now …

"As a memento of our time tonight. I don't want Balthazar to spoil the fun we've had."

He kissed her. Closing her eyes, Hermione blissfully sank in a long, passionate kiss. Her hand mindlessly squeezed the muscled flesh of his back, gripping it harder as her own arousal grew. He only pulled back briefly enough to let her gasp out his name. Her hands tangled in his lush hair as she felt a welcoming storm rising inside her. Hermione wanted so much to get swept away by it all. However, old insecurities gnawed away and she reluctantly pulled back.

"I feel sooty," Hermione said.

"Occupational hazard. Of course, there is always a hot bath."

"For two?"

"If you wish."

"Yes. Take me to the Manor," she said.

* * *

It was easier to submit to her blazing lust in the heat of the moment than to actually think about the details of what was to happen between them.

As Hermione gazed into the large, fragrant tub, she agonized over her decision. She had an irresistible urge to hide behind the plush stack of white towels. With fumbling fingers, she took off her dress, aware of Lucius eyeing her every movement. She had a moment of panic that he might offer to help, but then he turned away to remove his own clothing and gracefully waded into the water.

With less grace, Hermione followed him, hoping she wouldn't slip on the slick tiles and embarrass herself. Sitting side by side, she could imagine that this was utterly innocent.

"You have come a long way since the days of you running away at the thought of me seeing you naked," Lucius remarked light as he rubbed soap into his arms and chest, letting the bubbling jets massage it away.

"Haven't I?" She smiled. "I quite miss those lessons."

"We could … carry on," he offered.

"Only if …" she broke off, feeling uncertain all over again.

"Only if?" he persisted.

"If I could … touch you?" Her voice quavered and her heart pounded with nerves and excitement.

"As though I'd turn you down." He leaned back, watching to see what she would do next.

She kissed her husband, loving the way his wet, naked body felt against hers. After gathering enough courage, Hermione reached out and touched his firm thigh. He kissed her back, but otherwise remained impassive, inviting her to set the pace, letting her decide what to do before offering relevant suggestions. Her hand quested to his stomach, skimming the fair line of hair from his navel down, until she reached his swollen shaft. She lightly traced her fingertips over his entire length. His hard flesh twitched under her touch, almost jumping into her hand in eagerness. She couldn't believe something like that had fit inside her. No wonder it hurt.

An audible exhale left his mouth when she rubbed her palm experimentally over his shaft. He seemed content enough to leave her to her own devices for now. She managed to wrap her hand around his width and began to move her hand up and down his cock. Although her grip wasn't very firm, stroking felt easier in the water than out of it, for some reason. His legs spread wider. Hermione assumed that had to be a good sign, otherwise, he would have said something. Lucius didn't find anything to critique her on and continued to watch her, but his breathing had changed. She wondered if he was finding any pleasure in this.

"Would you prefer it differently?" she asked in earnest.

"A little harder and faster," he responded.

Hermione sped up her movements, giving a slight twist each time she passed over his dark, plump head. She wasn't exactly sure what he meant by harder, but she hoped he would like her substitute for it just the same. He groaned, seemingly surprised at her ministrations. Hermione was happy to finally put her late-night reading to actual use.

Lucius hissed and let his head fall back, his eyes closing, lips parting.

"Is this quite right?" she asked, uncertain still about what he meant by doing it harder. Hermione lost her confidence and faltered, feeling inadequate.

Lucius came to her rescue. "Would you like me to show you?" he asked without opening his eyes.

"Yes, please."

Lucius's hand floated down to join hers, wrapping itself around hers. "You add more pressure, like so." He closed his fingers more tightly around her hand and began to move it in shorter, rougher strokes. It was so beautiful to watch him like this. His movements were almost hypnotic.

"And then you continue as you were," he said.

"You mean this?" she asked, moving her thumb over his head again.

"Oh, yes," he hissed again.

Hermione copied the movements he showed her, trying to mimic his technique properly. Her strokes were harder and faster now, which he seemed to really enjoy by the constant rise of his hips. It didn't take long before he stiffened and a white liquid pulsed into her hands, splattering her fist along with his abdomen.

Yes, he was so beautiful.

Hermione wished she'd had the presence of mind to take a look at his face as well. She wanted to see what he looked like again in the throes of passion. She couldn't remember anything from their one night together.

When she looked up at him again, Lucius looked a little embarrassed, a reaction which confused Hermione; she was the one who still needed his instruction.

She looked as the white liquid was washed from her hands and looked the stain on his abs. "May I taste it?" she asked.

His eyes snapped open. "If you want to…" Lucius began hoarsely.

She leaned down and lightly brushed her lips across his belly. His skin tasted warm and fresh, but the slippery white streaks were slightly bitter in flavor. Hermione, however, found it quite to her liking. It was a unique, delicious taste of Lucius. She continued to lave him with her tongue until all the remains of his release were gone.

By the time, Hermione raised her head, it was her turn to be embarrassed. She almost regretted her brazen demeanor. He was so quiet throughout the whole ordeal, what if it was not to his liking?

"You are a quick study, my dear," Lucius remarked, his eyes slightly drooping in drowsiness.

"Does it mean you liked it?" Hermione asked him.

His eyes danced in merriment. "You'll find very few people dislike orgasms."

"But did you like it now? With me?" she pressed him, her anxiety growing.

His familiar enigmatic smile returned to his lips. "Very much."

Her stomach let out a loud growl.

"You're finally hungry, I take it?" he asked.

Hermione laughed. "Yes. Except I don't want to go anywhere."

"We can always have it in bed," he suggested with a salacious smirk.

"Bed, huh? Does that mean I'm invited to spend the night?"

Lucius pretended to consider it. "As long as you don't tell my wife."

In mock outrage, she splashed him.

The mischievous gleam in his eyes told her that their night lessons have only just begun.


	15. Chapter 15

**The Ball is upon Lucius and Hermione, but so are threats to their improving union!**

 **Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing. I'm beyond thrilled you all like the story :)**

* * *

"I've never had dinner in bed before," Hermione told Lucius after his house-elf brought them a superb selection. There was a baked salmon in dill sauce, artichoke canapés, stuffed olives, black caviar, a platter of assorted cheeses, and strawberries with chocolate sauce.

She rolled up the sleeves of a shirt he loaned her up to her elbows and sat up on the bed to tuck into the feast. When she started on the strawberries for dessert, Hermione noticed how her husband became more interested in watching her eat than partaking in the delicious treat himself. As she licked the chocolate sauce off her fingertip, she smiled at him.

It was a bit uncomfortable eating under such intense scrutiny. "Don't you want to try some?" she asked.

Instead of answering, he issued a command, "Open your mouth."

Hermione obediently parted her lips.

"Take a bit, but do not chew or swallow," Lucius instructed her.

She smiled again, instantly taking a liking to this game. Was it part of tonight's lesson?

Playing along, she ran her tongue over the plump berry and sank her teeth into its crimson flesh.

He handed her a glass of champagne. "Now take a sip."

Again, Hermione did as she was told. Closing her eyes, she chewed gently, relishing the mixture of bursting flavors of strawberry and champagne in her mouth. Swallowing, she opened her eyes to look at Lucius.

"That was delicious!" she exclaimed.

"Would you like another?" he offered.

"Don't you want any?"

He moved to sit closer to her on the bed, his firm thigh insistently pressing against hers. "I have a better idea. Close your eyes."

She felt him rub the strawberry along her lips. He removed it just as her lips were beginning to feel the acidic sting from the berry. Then his lips hungrily captured hers. She kissed him back with equal ardor, tasting the champagne in his mouth. His tongue enthusiastically met hers, adding his unique flavor into the mix.

"Good?" she teased him.

"Delicious," he answered with rakish glint in his eye. "And the berry's not bad either."

Hermione took another berry into her mouth, wrapping her lips seductively around it and proceeded to lick and suck on it provocatively. Lucius stared at her mouth with hypnotic fascination. Kissing her again, he removed the shirt she was wearing and slowly laid her back against the pillows. Enthralled, Hermione watched as Lucius took the strawberry from her hand and mopped it over her breasts, paying particular attention to the nipples. Then his mouth descended to her chest to slowly lick up the berry's juices with his tongue, alternating from breast to breast until her skin was clean again.

"Best dessert ever," he said when he looked up at her again.

She couldn't suppress an embarrassed giggle. "So what's tonight's lesson?" she queried.

"Do you know what it's like to crave release to the point where you think you'll go mad if you don't get it?" he replied with a question.

Hermione shook her head. "You know I don't," she quietly said.

A dangerous quality saturated his voice as he spoke, "You will tonight. I won't stop until you beg me for relief, and even then I'm the sole arbiter of whether or not your pleas are sufficient enough to grant you your wish."

She was a bit apprehensive about this. The fact that he was still dressed in his light dressing robe didn't do anything to ease her nerves. How exactly did he intend to do anything to her

He kissed her hand. "Do you trust me?"

"Of course."

Lucius drew out an item from his nightstand.

A peacock feather, Hermione noted with amusement. "You're going to make me do all that with a feather?" she asked him.

"Still skeptical of my instruction, I see," he drawled. "I suppose I will just have to prove you wrong."

He traced the feather along her cheek and down her neck. Hermione sighed at the soft sensation. Lucius tickled the feather over her collarbones and down to her breasts. When he brushed it over her nipples, she gasped with pleasure. Perhaps she had underrated this particular activity. The feather's teasing touches aroused her without granting further fulfillment.

She moaned as the stimulation inflamed her desire.

"How does it feel?" he asked.

"Nice," she replied. It felt infinitely better than nice but her powers of articulation were rapidly failing her.

"Only nice? Oh, I think we can do better than that." He continued to outline one nipple with the feather while he drew the other into his mouth, still chilled from champagne.

Louder moans left Hermione's mouth. The dual sensations soon had her rubbing her thighs together as her inner muscles began to desperately clench, demanding his attentions lower.

"Is it still nice?" he asked, his breath further tormenting her aroused flesh.

"It's wonderful," she sighed out when she could find her voice.

The feather glided over her stomach, swirling around her bellybutton before making its way down between her legs, which she willingly parted for him. Lucius's hand brushed over her pussy.

"So wet already," he commented, sounding quite pleased with himself. "But not enough to make you scream, is it?"

She shook her head, her legs shaking as he trailed the feather over her inner thigh. She lifted her hips off the bed. Her body eager for the feather to reach its ultimate destination. When it finally did, Hermione nearly shrieked. The feather twirled over her slit, the twirled over her clit until she writhed on the bed. Just when she felt the first flutters of her orgasm, Lucius took the feather away.

"Please…" she whimpered, nearly sobbing with frustration, her nails digging into the plush duvet beneath her.

"Please what?" Lucius taunted her, grazing the feather over her slick flesh for a heartbeat before removing it again.

Hermione's thighs trembled from constant tension. Her body was on fire, but she continued to shiver.

"Please, let me come, Lucius!" she begged, desperate for the release from this exquisite agony.

He darkly chuckled and moved to settle between her legs, alternating between teasing her with feather to teasing her with his tongue. Lucius licked her slowly before plunging his tongue inside her.

Hermione strained and a animalistic, thoroughly unladylike, noise wrenched from her throat. Her hips bucked against his mouth, and he pulled away, stroking her primed pussy with the feather once more. The pleasure that concentrated in her clit began to feel unbearable. However, Lucius showed her mercy. Every time she came close, he denied her, though she pleaded with him.

"Please, Lucius! I can't take it anymore!" Her voice was rasping, unrecognizable.

He brushed the feather over her inner thigh as his mouth fastened over her arching clit. With his first powerful suction, she came, screaming his name. He was relentless and continued to suckle her. Orgasms came in endless cycle, as one blended into another until Hermione was lost in a haze of sexual pleasure that felt blissful and painful in equal measure.

When Lucius finally granted her reprieve from his attentions, he joined her at her side, drawing her into his arms, his body protectively hugging hers.

"You survived your lesson," he said, kissing her shoulder.

"Just barely. I don't think I'll ever look at peacock feathers the same way again."

His chest pleasantly vibrated against her back as he laughed. "It suits me just fine."

"Do you know what suits me?" she asked him.

"What?"

Hermione turned in his arms, flattening her palms over his robe-clad chest. "Being married to you," she spoke.

"Me too," he said, then lowered his mouth to hers.

Yes, she was in love. He entered her life out of nowhere and now meant everything to her. For now, life was perfect.

* * *

"I can't believe you went to work today," Kelsey chided Hermione, as she doused her bouffant with more hairspray. The two witches decided to get ready for the Fire and Ice Ball together.

Hermione stuck her tongue out at her friend. "I don't need all day to get ready. Besides, I like working with my husband. He's a brilliant, genius wizard whose achievements are greatly undervalued in our society."

They both erupted into a boisterous laugher.

"It's easy for you. You're decisive. I still don't know what lipstick will look best with my dress. Should I wear Siren Red or Provocative Plum?"

"Definitely red. With your hair and gown, it'll be very old Hollywood," Hermione said, examining the open tubes.

"See? This right there! Quick, non-agonizing decision. Thank you!" Kelsey exclaimed in relief. "How are you not running the world yet?"

Hermione giggled. "No time for that. Being married to Lucius Malfoy tends to keep one busy."

"I'll bet," Kelsey said, smirking.

Her companion didn't reply. Instead Hermione carefully concentrated on lining her eyes with eyeliner and applying her glossy lipstick that was just slightly brighter than her natural lip shade.

"Dress time!" her friend sang out. "I can't believe you wouldn't let me see it sooner."

Hermione walked to her closet and pulled out her garment bag. "I told you, I couldn't," she said. "Mrs. Swancombe's dressmaker didn't finish it until two days ago."

"You're so lucky! A custom-made gown. Those gorgeous earrings. You're going to be the belle of the ball," the blonde raved.

Glancing back at the mirror, Hermione frowned. "Maybe I should have worn my hair up or cut it shorter to a more fashionable style."

"Don't you dare lob off your hair," Kelsey admonished her. "You've got what romances call _flowing tresses_. Your hair's naturally gorgeous. I should be so out of style."

"Says the witch whose hair would make my husband green with envy," Hermione retorted, unzipping the garment bag with flourish.

A sparkling cloud of white organza greeted then and her friend sighed and cooed in admiration as she helped her friend in. Mrs. Swancombe's dressmaker designed the most fitting gown for the occasion. It was simple, but stylish with its strapless, sweetheart satin bodice edged with pearls and silver bejeweled decoration synching at the waist. After Kelsey zipped her up, Hermione twirled around, the light fabric of her skirt airily billowing around her ankles.

"You look so bridal," the blonde witch gushed, slipping on her own slinky black number.

"I feel bridal," Hermione admitted. "Lucius doesn't know it yet, but tonight is _the_ night."

"Finally! Now you're acting married. I'm happy things are going so well for you. You deserve it." They looked at their reflections in the mirror. "Who knows?" Kelsey remarked. "Perhaps I'll ensnare my own Mr. Right tonight."

Soon afterwards they departed for Grosvenor House. Hermione's spells transformed sterile ballroom into a dazzling display of flaming scarlet and glittering silver, perfectly executing the Ball's theme. She bewitched the walls to resemble playful bright flames and the floor became a frozen lake under a ceiling of brilliant starlight against the indigo sky.

The tickets sold out in record numbers. All of wizarding society appeared to have stepped out for the occasion. Everything was perfect. Except for one very important detail: Lucius wasn't here.

Draco arrived an hour ago, along with Mrs. Swancombe. His eyes, however, followed Kelsey around, while Ron trailed after the statuesque beauty like a puppy dog. She would have found it all amusing if she wasn't so miserable. Hermione wandered around the ballroom, chatting with numerous acquaintances over the loud music. Gowns of every color twirled and swayed to the tune. She wished so much that she could be one of them. Instead, she wandered to a dark corner to nurse her drink as a romantic song began playing. Then she felt a presence behind her before a hand touched her back.

"I've been watching you. You are a vision in white," a seductive, melodic voice spoke in her ear. It was _his_ voice. A voice which interwove itself into her memory since she was a schoolgirl. A voice that reached into her soul, touching something private and intimate that no one else had dared to before.

All the misery of earlier vanished. But Hermione decided to punish him for making her wait.

"My first husband will not like that," she commented tartly, not turning around.

He inhaled sharply, the hand on her back moved roughly to grasp her hip.

"Your _first_ husband, Madam? Your only, if I have anything to say on that account," Lucius snarled, turning her around to face him. She writhed under his gaze, her body motionless yet threatening to swoon. He stood before her all shadows and light, obscurity and beauty. Utterly ageless. His pale hair providing a sharp contrast against his jet black dress robes. His eyes, his best feature, robbed her of breath. Hermione felt a frightening force grip her.

"Not if you continue to neglect me," came her sharp retort. If he thought he could get away with his silly game so easily, he was mistaken. Hermione would inflict her punishment, dent his arrogant pretensions.

His hand came up to play along her cheek in a soft caress. A sadness appeared in his eyes, but soon that sadness was swallowed up by tenderness. "I wasn't neglecting, but admiring. Your beauty consumes me, devours me, obsesses me. I have so few opportunities to look at you without any interruptions. Surely, you wouldn't hold it against me."

She opened her mouth to correct him, to disagree. Then she realized that in his eyes she was everything she secretly hoped to be and never had thought to achieve.

Before she could collect her wits, Lucius covered her mouth with his, stealing a kiss. His taste overwhelmed her. His lips stroked over hers, his tongue coaxing, tasting, apologizing. Her own lips gave in and except him, inviting his tongue to invade her. He demanded her forgiveness and surrender as their tongues dueled. Hermione could only yield, giving him what he wanted and taking back just as much in return.

He pulled away, extending his hand to her. A silent command which she readily accepted. On faltering legs she followed him to the dance floor. His arms wrapped around her waist as hers came up to his shoulders. The hands on her back caressed her through the material of her bodice, pressing her to him. As they swayed among the other dancers, Hermione couldn't feel the floor beneath her feet. Was she dancing? Floating? Flying?

She smiled at him, her eyelids fluttering with her heart. With this man, she felt relaxed and panicked at the same time.

Her heart swelled under his gaze. Her breath hitched under his touch. Her voice lost, failed.

His lips descended to hers again, conveying a thousand unspoken wishes. It felt so right for her to come to him, to hold him. So natural to be with him.

She brought her lips to his neck. "I want you," she spoke softly.

"Tonight?" he asked. She felt his single word against her skin, seeping into every molecule of her body.

"Yes," she breathed out.

He bent to kiss her again, but was roughly yanked away from her.

"Malfoy!" a venomous voice sliced through their enchanted sojourn. Hermione recognized the wizard who so rudely intruded upon them. It was Minister of Magic's Chief Advisor, Bernard Cravens.

"You swine! You're too stupid to realize that there are some people in the Ministry who can't be bought!" he barked at Lucius.

The music suddenly stopped and everyone on the dance floor turned to stare at them, softly murmuring.

Cravens raged on, "It's time you've been taught a proper lesson." The angry wizard threw a glove at Lucius. "I challenge you to a duel. To the death!"

Gasps echoed around the room. Hermione's heart thumped violently in her chest. Blood rushed to her head, making her disoriented. She felt her legs buckle and then darkness rushed at her.


	16. Chapter 16

**Sorry about the long update. With cliffhangers, I don't like to leave anyone hanging out there too long. As always, I'm deeply grateful to all of you readers. I'm astounded by how many followers this story has. Thank you so much for your support and insightful comments. I love reading your theories and reactions :)**

 **Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Sea of faces surrounded Hermione as she came to. Mrs. Swancombe wafted smelling salts under her nose as Kelsey kept shooing everyone away in her bossiest tone in an attempt to give Hermione room to breath.

"Where's Lucius? Where's my husband?" she demanded, scrambling to her feet.

"Not so fast," Mrs. Swancombe cautioned. "You don't want to end back here again."

"I'm here," Lucius said as he protectively draped his arm around her shoulders and handed her a glass of water.

She didn't drink it. "Have you accepted?" she asked. Her palms broke into cold sweat in fear of his answer.

He looked affronted. "Of course," he tersely replied.

Her face crumbled. "Why?"

"Despite what everyone may think, I am not a coward."

"But why does he think you bribed him?" Hermione questioned in confusion. "He's hardly the sort to be bought."

"I haven't. But he made the accusation public and now we all must do what needs to be done," he said calmly.

"How can you say that when he means to kill you?" Tears rolled freely down her pale cheeks. "I can't lose you now."

"And you won't," he assured her, wiping at her tears with his handkerchief.

She shook him off. "You can't guarantee that. I am not going to stand by and do nothing!"

"You have no choice. If you're to witness a duel, you must surrender your wand," he explained with same irritating calmness.

Hermione remained defiant. "I don't need a wand to perform most spells."

His words were cruel in their sharpness. "Do not interfere with this, do you understand? I will not have it. I fought in over 30 duels in my life. I know what I'm doing." He gave her a small smile. "I'll return to you and we'll finish our dance. Unless you want to skip to our honeymoon first."

Not sure what to think or do, Hermione threw herself into his arms, crushing her body to his. Why must this man be so stubborn? Who invented this stupid tradition anyway? Haven't enough extraordinary men lost their life to this barbaric tradition?

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ginny arguing with Narcissa Malfoy. That was an odd sight. What could those two have anything to talk about? The two witches soon disappeared into the throng of departing party-goers so quickly that Hermione thought she must have imagined the whole exchange.

Oblivious to everything around her, she accompanied her husband to Hampstead Heath. Draco, Harry, and Ron came along as witnesses. Lucius offered Cravens a choice of weapons between wands and rapiers. Cravens chose the swords. Hermione suspected that the insolent wizard lacked the skills to fight a former Death Eater with his favorite weapon. She wondered how Lucius was with a sword; she had never seen him fence before. As Hermione surrendered her wand, she made a promise to herself that should occasion call for it, she would interfere at the earliest opportunity. She wasn't going to lose her husband tonight. She didn't care how many rules she had to break to ensure that. Incurring Lucius's wrath over her interference would still be worth it. She'd rather he was alive and cross with her than on good terms but dead.

The wizards bowed to each other and the duel began. Hermione trembled as she watched the nightmare unfold before her. Cravens approached Lucius and they crossed their rapiers. For several minutes they fought with ferocity. More than once Chief Advisor's sword came very close to delivering a dangerous blow to Lucius, but he dodged it each time with great dexterity and artistry. Cravens was beginning to noticeably run out of steam as Lucius masterfully fenced him with ever furious blows. Soon Cravens was cornered, but then his blade twisted and sliced Lucius across his arm. Hermione went numb. She could see the thin line of blood, but could not tell if the wound was deep. Encouraged, Cravens regained momentum, but it was temporary. The pace of Lucius's blows increased. His rival panicked as Lucius send him hurling to the ground. Fire burned in his eyes as he towered over Cravens; there was no mercy in them, only death sentence.

With a flash, Lucius's rapier thrust into Cravens, burying itself in his abdomen. Dark blood began to pool beneath the body as Cravens desperately gasped for air. Hermione noticed a triumphant smile appear on her husband's lips as he leaned over his defeated opponent.

"You should only challenge your equals."

He rose and performed the cleaning spell on his sword. The blood immediately disappeared, leaving it gleaming in the darkness of the night.

Hermione knew she should be horrified by witnessing such savage brutality and unnecessary, avoidable death, but she didn't care. In this moment, she was so relieved that Lucius lived that she would have traded anyone and anything for the same outcome. Unable to hold back, she ran to her victorious wizard. Sweat glistened on his face, his chest rose and fell with steady billows under his dress robes. His eyes, brilliant and sharp as ever, softened as he gazed at Hermione.

A slow smile spread on his mouth and Lucius said imperiously, "Come."

Then he Apparated them away.

Hermione didn't recognize their destination. It was a huge bedroom that oozed of romance and relaxation. The enormous canopy bed was beautifully draped with white sheers, which contrasted against black satin bedding, beguiling anyone to spend hours indulging in its decadence. The floor-to-ceiling windows across the bed showed off a honeymoon-worthy view of starlit sky and shimmering water with floating white lilies that seemed to give off an almost supernatural glow.

"Where are we?" she asked in wonder.

"Where no one can disturb us or interrupt us. Away from all the world," he answered.

His cryptic reply amused her. She looked back at him, feeling herself drowning in his eyes. Instead of elaborating, he reached out to her and kissed her. His lips were a wonderful dream, soft and greedy. She slowly moved her tongue over them, absorbing their exciting taste. Finally she was compelled to move away. With shaking fingers, she undressed him enough to inspect his wound. Summoning the Essence of Dittany from her purse, she carefully applied it to his arm.

Lucius hissed, then relaxed as the cut healed. He squeezed her shoulders and pressed another kiss to her lips. With a dreamy expression on his face, he looked Hermione over as if seeing her for the first time. He ran his hands over the bodice of her dress, seeking the zipper. He helped her out of it and carefully hung it over a chair, then turned back to her. They undressed each other in turn, savoring as every body part was revealed until they stood before each other completely naked.

Together they fell into bed, laying side by side. His pale skin shone against the background of the dark sheets. Hermione began to breath harder, her skin flushing slightly. Lucius artfully began to cover her in kisses, each growing with ardor. When he released her from his furious kiss, he stared into her eyes with such intensity that Hermione felt almost afraid.

"I want to taste you." His request was abrupt, tinkering on the edge of arrogant, and Hermione felt a ribbon of arousal coil through her body.

She reflected, staying silent, then her reply came, her voice barely above a whisper, "Okay."

Lucius got a hold of her chin and tilted her face to look into his. "You sound uncertain."

Hermione hesitated before speaking, "I've just never … I'm certain."

He kissed her lips again, just as hungrily as before. His mouth moved to her neck, then journeyed down over her shoulder as he pushed her onto her back, looming over her. Hermione's fingers dug into sheets as Lucius licked at her hardened nipples, heightening her desire even more. His teeth closed around one peak and he pulled. A soft cry left her lips before he released it and moved to the other one where he repeated the process. Further down he travelled, lips moving over the smooth, warm skin of her stomach, tongue dipping into her navel before he reached her pussy and paused. His hands came down, held tight onto her slim thighs as he lifted her legs up, leaning forward slightly.

Hermione held her breath when his tongue came out and brushed wetly across her slit. She forced herself to stay in the same position as her clit screamed for attention. Lucius pushed his tongue between her pussy lips, brought it to her entrance and held it there, soaking up the moisture. His eyes flicked up to her face. He slid his tongue up into her passage and she gasped as he began pulling it in and out, his fingers digging into her arse.

Unable and unwilling to remain silent, Hermione moaned with abandon at the exquisite sensations produced by Lucius's tongue and rushing of sudden moisture. Lucius pulled his tongue away at the exclamation of his name. He looked directly into her eyes, making her stomach flip. With determination, Lucius resumed the tantalizing thrusts of his tongue before pausing, parting her lips with his fingers and looking at her throbbing clit. He breathed out purposefully, stoically observing as she squirmed in anticipation of his mouth on her.

Granting her silent wish, he swept over her hard button with strong, long licks as Hermione pushed up to him, imploring for more. Her thighs twitched on either side of him but she controlled herself, stopping them from wrapping tightly about his head as he licked and sucked alternately, drawing her closer and closer to her inevitable orgasm.

"Yes, my darling. Oh thank you. Thank you," she gasped in gratitude.

His experienced tongue flicked and swirled until her body shuddered and Hermione let herself go. She writhed in pleasure under Lucius's mouth, the folds of her pussy pressing harder into his face until the graze of his teeth sent her flying over the edge, into utter heavenly bliss.

"Oh, Lucius!" her rapturous cry echoed all around her.

Lucius watched her in appreciation, her slim form twisting on the sheets, her breasts sweating as she screamed and bucked wildly against his mouth as he continued to lave at her clit. On instinct, she pulled away, too sensitive for more. He didn't let go that easily, repeatedly lapping at her with small licks until she cried out again and desperately wiggled away from his hungry mouth. Hermione rolled onto her side and pressed her legs hard together, withdrawing the last tremors from her body. She lay there for a good few minutes, sweating all over, feeling her juices seep across her outer pussy lips, unable to believe what her husband had just done to her.

"That's what all the fuss is about," Hermione said when her vocal faculties returned to her.

Lucius's hand dropped between his legs, fingers roving over his hardening bulge. "That's only the beginning," he said.

Hermione felt a delicious shiver of delight course through her body, as he pulled her to him, murmuring in her ear, "Forget everything. It's just you and me. It's us. Only us."

He pushed his skilled fingers between her legs, hiding his impatience, and she watched as they drifted over her pulsating clitoris.

His voice burned with passion when he spoke again, "I've waited so long for you to come to me. It's almost painful. I've never waited on any witch like this. But I didn't just want your body; I wanted your love. And now you're here. You're finally mine."

Hermione shivered again. His words and touch seduced her beyond reason. Agile digits deftly pushed into her dripping passage, stretching her, preparing her for what was to come. From this moment, Hermione ceased to belong to herself. She kissed him again. His lips intoxicated her, drawing the young witch into the vortex of unknown sensations. His caresses opened more pleasurable frontiers, priming her for that supreme, all-consuming rapture. Ever the adroit lover, Lucius tamed his passion, and for this restraint she was most thankful.

"Lucius!" His name was a mixture of pleasure and harassed confusion as Lucius's hands moved over her, leaving no part of her body untouched before they rested on her waist and he sank his blazing cock deep inside her.

He felt bigger than ever as he stretched her, then began thrusting in shallow strokes. So different from last time … so considerate and tender.

"You like that?" he panted the words out between thrusts. One of his hands moving up to caress her breast. Hermione sighed in approved arching more into his palm.

Hermione gasped, "Yes! So good!"

With tireless patience, he moved within her, until she grew hotter under his caresses and clung to him, imploring him with her feverish eyes to increase his pace. Her excitement grew until she could not cope, immersing her into an abyss of passion. She could hear someone wailing, screaming, moaning and begging for more and then she realized it was her. She'd lost control of her body; it was his to do with as he pleased. Abandoning all modesty, she gave herself to Lucius.

"Oh God … Lucius, my love," she sobbed with sheer pleasure. Then, unbelievably, she felt him change the angle, thrusting into her even harder, even faster than he'd been doing before as he raced to his own completion. His thumb pressed hard against her engorged clit and she screamed even louder, not caring who might hear every last moan and grunt.

Lucius's mouth was on her ear, "Feel it. Feel me. This time … together."

His teeth bit teasingly at her earlobe, lavishing affection on every part of her. His guttural moans combined fluently with her gasps and yelps. Lucius slammed repeatedly, continually hitting her sweet spot. Ecstasy seized her with such was that she was frightened for one fleeting moment. Hermione's slender body jerked, almost violently, before she slumped. A long drawn out cry of pleasure that tore from his throat until Lucius finally shot powerful jets of his release deep into her.

They let their emotions boil to the surface. After all the setbacks that had beset their spontaneous marriage, they were united in spirit as well as in body. Hermione breathed in the scent of his cologne and sweat, allowed it to fill her nostrils and pool in her mind, to lock it in her memory forever. Lucius pressed against her, kissing her passionately before rolling off her.

Stretched out beside him, Hermione gradually came into herself. They continued to gaze at each other, their eyes ever insatiable.

"That was… I never thought…" Hermione couldn't describe how she felt as she melted under Lucius's stare.

He smiled. "I've never enjoyed a woman so much."

Hermione blushed, basking in the post-coital tenderness as they wrapped their arms around each other.

She traced the tip of her finger around his mouth, unable to conjure up an equally loving response. Lucius wrapped her tighter in his arms and they both drifted to sleep. When Hermione woke up again, Lucius was already awake. He observed her with quiet adoration. Hermione smiled at him and he closed his eyes, as if blinded. She rubbed her leg seductively against his.

"So soon?" he languidly drawled.

"Not that soon. We've rested. What time is it?" she asked, nuzzling at his collarbone.

"No clocks, my darling. Here time stands still. You are still a beginner. Your body needs more time to recover, no matter how eager you may be to continue our lessons." He levitated two glasses and a bottle of peach champagne from the table on the other side of the room.

"I think we've worked hard enough to earn an award," he said.

"What shall we toast to?"

"To us," Lucius suggested.

"To us," Hermione echoed, as they clinked their glasses.

"What is it?" he asked.

She marveled at how well he could read the anxiety in her eyes.

"Bernard Cravens was Kingsley's Chief Advisor. I fear no one will write this off as a mere duel."

He gently reassured her, "Don't think about it now. You know he forced my hand. There were plenty of witnesses. At this moment, I much rather focus on you."

"I always thought men often become cold after they satisfy their passions," she said.

"But I am not like other men," he said.

"You certainly are not," Hermione agreed.

A naughty gleam appeared in his eyes. "Just think: while everyone is at war commemoration ceremony at Hogwarts, we are in bed together. That's a union no one saw coming to fruition."

She nearly chocked on her champagne as she softly laughed. "You're incorrigible. You know if there are two methods to something, you're the wizard who is bound to find a third. We may be married, but you make me feel like I'm sinning."

He winked at her. "Pleasant feeling, is it not?"

"You're so wicked!"

"Unrepentantly so," Lucius admitted with pride.

Setting aside her empty glass, Hermione bent over his chest and peppered it with kisses.

"You have the perfect body," she breathed out, running her fingers from his nipple to his groin. She was overjoyed at the fact that he hardened at her touch.

"If you keep that up, I won't be able to resist ravishing you again," he warned.

"By all means, don't resist," Hermione cooed, stroking his cock.

Chuckling, he took her into his arms and fulfilled his promise.


	17. Chapter 17

**Thank you so much dear reviewers and readers for your continued support of this story. I'm astounded by how many followers it has. This is a bit of a roller-coaster chapter, so I hope you'll like it and remember this is a HEA Lumione (no matter what happens next!)**

 ***Disclaimer: All characters and canon situations belong to J.K. Rowling. I make no profit by writing and posting this story.**

* * *

Honeymoon week on their private, paradisiacal getaway passed in a haze of happiness for Hermione and Lucius. Hours were spent making love, followed by picnics on the beach. Hermione discovered that one of her favorite pastimes was strolling with her husband along the shoreline among the shells and bright chunks of coral that nature scattered in random confusion. Nothing, however, compared to their talks. Whether it was whispered incidentals, anxious questions, or open confessions of faults that had been keeping them apart, Hermione never felt closer to another human being as she had to Lucius.

The crescent moon shone high in the dark sky, transforming the whiteness of the sand to pure silver, as the couple slowly walked back to their bungalow. The sound of waves was almost hypnotic … almost as hypnotic as the sexy glimmer in her husband's eyes.

"This has been perfect," Hermione told Lucius.

"Absolutely," he agreed, punctuating each syllable with a kiss.

"You know what would make it better?" she asked him.

"Tell me."

She stopped walking, then replied, "One of your lessons."

"And what would you like to learn tonight?" he inquired, slipping an arm around her waist as they resumed their stroll.

Hermione chewed nervously on her lip, feeling embarrassed to say the words aloud; they sounded so crude in her head, she couldn't imagine saying them out loud. Still … he did instruct her the first night their lessons began not to be ashamed of her desires.

Taking a deep breath, she took the plunge. "I'd like to learn how to … suck your cock."

This time, he was the one to stop in his tracks, then grabbing her in his arms he Apparated them to their favorite location in the house — their bed. Remembering their very first lesson, she stripped off what little clothing she was wearing, wanting to show him much she desired this.

"Before we embark on practice, we'll go over theory first." He slipped the tip his index finger into her mouth. "Most important thing to remember is to be careful with the teeth. You don't want to accidentally bite down on anything vital." He winked at her.

Hermione released his digit from her mouth to speak, "It's all fine for theory, but you're so much bigger than that. Maybe I should practice on a banana or something?"

He chuckled. "No, no. This will suffice."

She opened her mouth again and sucked his finger in with small moan.

He groaned, then withdrew from her mouth. "Very good. Now it's more than a simple matter of putting a cock in your mouth. What makes this act so desirable is how one uses the mouth to give oral pleasure. Varying suction, using tongue, lips, and even throat is what ultimately makes the act so enticing." His scholarly tone aroused Hermione more than she dared to admit. She adored being tutored in carnal matters by the most seductive instructor.

Demonstrating her understanding, Hermione drew his fingertip between her lips again. She sucked hard, then swirled her tongue around it, finishing off with gentle, soothing sucks. Lucius hissed at the sensation, wrinkling his brow.

"That was wrong, wasn't it?" Hermione asked.

He took her hand and placed it on his groin. "Does this feel like anything is wrong?"

She shivered and shook her head, smiling as she continued to touch him through his underwear. "I'm feel so silly, so I'm probably going to misinterpret a lot of your nonverbal cues."

"You're not expected to master it all at once. It's normal to feel nervous, even silly. And someday … you won't. With practice, you'll feel more confident about your skills, and those feelings will vanish," Lucius assured her.

In response, she gave his cock a light squeeze. Groaning, he threw a pillow on the floor between his legs and gently commanded her, "Get on your knees."

Hermione obeyed him, sinking into the pillow's softness. He scooted closer to the edge and spread his legs wider. She was finally face to face with his clothed member. Curious fingers traveled up his thighs to trace the outline of his shape. He half groaned, half growled in impatience. Hermione reached up and pulled him free. His naked tumescence felt so much hotter in her bare hands. She moved them up and down on him, delighting in his change of breathing.

"You don't have to be so gentle. I won't break," he said.

She tightened her grip and pumped him with both hands. An opalescent drop of fluid appeared atop his flushed tip.

Experimentally, she licked at it, savoring the clean, unusual taste of him. With great enthusiasm, she continued to drag her tongue over the engorged flesh.

"That so good … so good," he murmured, closing his eyes. "You are an excellent student."

Hermione moaned. Seeing and hearing him become so aroused by her was making her pussy painfully ache. She would have never imagined that licking his throbbing shaft could get her so wet. Being surrounded by his scent and taste was an aphrodisiac of the highest calibre, and she was sure she could come from this alone. She returned to the tip again, swirling her tongue over the enflamed skin. Then, like she practiced, she covered his swollen head with her mouth, sucking lightly before taking more of him into her mouth.

"Hermione," Lucius moaned, falling back.

His reaction spurned her on to double her efforts. She thought she was making a rather sloppy job of it, her rhythm and suction was uneven, and she could hardly do anything with her tongue with so much thickness in her mouth. Her jaw felt sore and she increased her pace to alleviate the dull ache. Just when she thought she was miserably failing, salty spurts sprayed her mouth. On reflex, and to avoid chocking, she swallowed, feeling rather accomplished.

"Did you like that?" she asked hoarsely.

He smiled in response, his eyes bleary and unfocused as he sat up. Hermione got up to her feet and joined him on the bed again, climbing to sit behind him. She summoned a hairbrush and began to move it through his hair, untangling the pale strands. Once his mane gleamed with each brush stroke, she tossed it aside and lovingly massaged his scalp with her fingertips.

Closing his eyes, Lucius leaned his head back into her touches.

"So what marks would you give your student?" she playfully asked him.

"Outstanding."

He turned around, his languor swept aside and proceeded to cover her with kisses. His lips captured one nipple, then another, bringing her to sheer ecstasy with this act alone. Her hands pressed his face to her chest, feeling his stumble scratch at her soft skin. His artful kisses and strokes were becoming too much. As he swelled with desire again, he flipped her onto her stomach. He run his hands down her back before attacking the same trail with his mouth. Hermione wasn't in the mood to be teased though. As if sensing her impatience, Lucius pulled her to her knees and drove into her with one deep thrust. Straining to the limit from such shocking pleasure of fullness, Hermione incoherently gasped. His arms snaked about her waist as he moved in and out of her with slow, steady strokes. His strong, healthy body was created for loving her like this, for coaxing all-consuming bliss from every part of her body and mind.

"More … faster," she gasped out.

And he happily obliged her, clinging to her hips. Hermione gripped the bedspread, giving herself to the rapid build of her impending climax. Lucius reached around and teased her clit in rhythm with his thrusts. Unable to hold out much longer, Hermione gave herself to the shrill intoxication of her orgasm, gasping and moaning his name. Even as she calmed down, his wicked fingers continued to play with her clit. She scrambled for his hand, trying to pull it away from her, but Lucius had other ideas. It wasn't long before her body shuddered uncontrollably in another orgasm.

Nearing his own pinnacle, he gripped her waist and slammed hard into her, expelling his essence inside her. All too soon, he pulled out and slumped next to her.

"Do you think …?" she began when her senses returned to her, "Do you think … I can … live with you again?"

He propped himself up on one elbow, his hand lovingly stroking her back. "Is it something you want to do?"

She rolled her eyes. "No, it's not. I'm just randomly bringing up things I don't want to do," she retorted sarcastically.

Lucius reached over and tickled her. "You're the only person who ever dared to get cheeky with me."

Hermione swatted his hands away. "That's because I'm not afraid of you."

"Oh, really?"

"Really," she said, nipping at his lower lip.

Lucius pulled slightly away from her, his tone turning serious again as he spoke, "I want you to live with me again, but I don't want you to rush back because you feel … obligated after this or—"

"Well, if you rather I didn't…" she interrupted in mock effrontery.

He shook his head, circling his arms tightly around her. "No, no, no! You misunderstand me. I want you back. I wanted you back immediately."

She kissed him. "I'm back now. For good." She emphasized each word with a kiss along his jaw, then moved to his throat, brushing her lips along his pulse point before nibbling and sucking her way up to his ear.

"Promise me," he mumbled, fighting sleep. "Promise me, you won't leave me again."

"Of course, I won't leave you again. And you know why." She felt too nervous to say the words, but he knew her well enough to comprehend her meaning.

A smile of contentment grazed his lips before sleep claimed them both.

* * *

When they reluctantly returned to dreary reality, Hermione wasn't surprised to see the summons from the Auror Office for Lucius. He was supposed to go for questioning at noon the next day and promise to stop by her flat afterwards to pick her up for their official move-in day. She thought he'd be by sometime around two, but as the afternoon wore on, he was still a no-show.

Making a quick sandwich for late lunch, Hermione decided to stop by the Auror Office herself.

The questioning about Cravens must not have gone well for Lucius, she assumed. Although she knew her husband was going to have to face consequences for that duel, she didn't think they were going to be so immediate. Now she feared Kingsley might be motivated enough to make an example of Lucius by sending him to Azkaban. She rushed to polish off her meager meal and took off for the Ministry. She stepped off the lift on the second level and was immediately relieved when she saw Harry heading in the opposite direction.

"Harry!" she called to him, rushing forward. "Where is he? Are they still questioning him?"

"Who?" Harry asked in confusion.

"My husband, that's who!" Hermione said in exasperation, eager to get her answers.

 _Please, still be here! Please, still be here!_

Harry frowned. "Hermione, he never showed up. We went to the Manor to bring him over in person, but he wasn't there. His house-elf said he got an owl this morning and took off."

Her stomach painfully lurched. "What do you mean took off? Took off where?"

"We don't know. We're getting a clearance to search his residence, unless you give permission, then we can…"

She nodded in response.

It couldn't be true. There had to be some mistake. It wasn't possible for him to just leave without telling her. Maybe some emergency detained him. Maybe the owl was from Mrs. Swancombe. She constantly mentioned her declining health, perhaps she needed his help. Or maybe emergency had to do with Draco. The former schoolmate had a knack for finding trouble.

"I'm going to stop by Mrs. Swancombe's to see if he's with her, then I'll meet you back at the Manor," she said, then ran towards the atrium to use the Floo.

The elderly witch happily greeted her in the parlor, unaware of the turmoil that raged inside Hermione. When she explained the reason for her visit, Odette Swancombe sank into one of her satin chairs. Her pale skin looked almost ashen as she said she hadn't heard from Lucius since before the Fire and Ice Ball and had no plans to see him today.

"So you have no idea where he could possibly be?" Hermione asked, knowing what the answer might be.

"No," Mrs. Swancombe answered. "Perhaps Draco might know, but I doubt it. At the ball, he said he was going away on a stag holiday for one of his school chums … didn't sound like he would be back anytime soon."

Her voice sounded hollow, as Hermione spoke, "The Aurors are coming to search the house. They said he didn't show up for his interview … he didn't show up to pick me up."

At this Mrs. Swancombe looked annoyed. "Young lady, don't get me started on this absurd arrangement. Married people shouldn't live apart. Separate bedrooms are one thing, but living apart is just unacceptable!"

Hermione sighed. She really didn't want to get into this. "I was supposed to move back in today," she hastened to say.

The matriarch seemed extremely pleased with this news and seemed to forget their mutual anxiety. Soon afterwards, Hermione left Swancombe Mellow and Flooed to the Manor.

She walked around in grave silence. The house felt like morgue without Lucius. When Harry showed up, he made a thorough inspection, but didn't find anything that turned about any clue about her husband's whereabouts. Nor did they find the letter that prompted his sudden departure. Everything seemed in perfect order. It's as though he stepped out and would be back any minute.

"What can we do now?" she asked Harry. "File a missing person report?"

Harry looked uncertain. "It won't do you any good now seeing as there's no signs of foul play and he's not been missing for at least twenty-four hours. It looks as though he just went off somewhere to avoid showing up for questioning. If he's not back by tomorrow, then you can file it." He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his unruly hair. "Look, I have to be honest. It looks like he skipped out for a while. Since the Auror Office is already after him, a Missing Persons report won't do much; it's up to my Department to find him because he is a person of interest in the Cravens duel. We need his statement, and him running off looks bad, Hermione."

"But he didn't just run off!" she insisted. "He had every intention to go, then we made plans for after. Trust me, he wouldn't just disappear! All year he has been nothing but cooperative with the Ministry. Why would he leave now? It makes no sense … unless it wasn't his choice." Her voice shook as her imagination ran wild on that last statement. Admonishing herself, she brushed her panic aside and collected her wits.

"That's what we'll have to find out. For right now, there's not much for you to do but wait and let us know if you hear anything. We're looking for him, so unlike average missing person, we've more of a chance of finding him sooner."

Her friend's words were hardly reassuring. When he left, Hermione walked around the house again. She couldn't sit still; restlessness drove her to keep moving. She talked to the house-elf again, but the poor creature could tell her no more than what he told the Aurors, and she asked the elf to go find Draco and ask him if he knows anything. To keep herself busy, she brought over her trunks and unpacked her things. As she framed their New Year's Eve photograph, the only memento of their wedding aside from their marriage license, she tried to keep her panic and paranoia at bay. However, the lack of any communication from Lucius and such an uncharacteristic absence distressed her more with each passing hour. As evening and night dragged on, fear consumed her. Hermione couldn't eat or sleep – all she could do was wait.

 _Where are you, Lucius?_

When Hermione woke up in the drawing room the following day, it was already noon, but there was still no sign of Lucius. She drew aside on the heavy velvet curtain to peek at the world outside. The beautiful spring day seemed to mock her mood and she let the curtain fall back in its place, plunging the room back into gloomy darkness.

She went to the Auror Office again, but Harry informed her that they had no leads. Not heading his advice, Hermione's next stop was to file a Missing Person report. The slow process and bureaucratic indifference to her plight did nothing to improve the intolerable strain she was under.

At lunch with Harry, all she could was pick at her food. The entire ordeal felt more like an informal interrogation as he peppered her with questions to which she could only give brief, jerky responses. She didn't want to start a row with her friend, but got the distinct impression that he and the entire Auror department was treating Lucius's disappearance as deliberate. He must have sensed her irritation and sadness, for he did try to offer her small comfort.

"No news is good news though, Hermione," Harry said with a small smile. "We'll find him. Why don't you come for dinner tonight? Ginny's been dying to have you come round, but you never return her owls."

"Some other time perhaps," said Hermione.

"Look, she feels really bad about that spell. She keeps constantly saying how she'll do anything in her power to fix what happened. She's even joined the organization to abolish Marriage Laws and reinstate the old system," Harry said. "I know she had no business to perform that spell, but she is awfully sorry."

She didn't want to deal with Ginny right now and the unpleasantries her memory evoked.

"Please, can you just tell me what exactly is being done to find Lucius?" she asked him instead of responding to his comments about Ginny.

"Everything, Hermione. The twenty-four hour searches, the international alerts … everything. All our best resources are being poured into this," Harry replied robustly.

"Because the department thinks he fled on purpose in order to escape any possible charges regarding his deadly duel with Cravens?"

He hesitated, as though battling within himself whether to be kind or honest. Honesty must have won out when he finally answered, "Yes. But it's a good thing in this case. If you're right and his disappearance isn't his choice, we have better a chance of finding him using Auror resources. Other, more typical, Missing Persons cases don't have that option, and it takes longer."

"Oh, they've got to find him!" she exclaimed almost violently. "They've got to!"

Once she returned to the Manor, there was still no news of either Lucius or the house-elf. With a heavy heart, she took a light nap in her husband's room – on the bed that was the site of so many wonderful firsts for them and the one that they were meant to be sharing right now. Instead she fell asleep alone. She woke up in time to watch the sunset in the big bay window that faced the west. As the sky blazed in a kaleidoscope of colors from white to dark violet, Hermione became consumed with memories.

 _"_ _What's your poison?"_ was the first thing he said to her at the bar during New Year's Eve Ball.

 _"_ _What do you mean? People normally ask that in regards to beverages, but with you one never knows, so I'll need you to be more specific."_

 _"_ _How you wound me, Miss Granger. With my spotless reputation, you presume I have sinister motives?"_

 _She laughed, wagging her finger at him. "One can never be too careful around you, Mr. Malfoy."_

Tears slid down her cheeks as she remembered their exchange … how the snide remarks became flirtatious … how she came to see that behind his haughty veneer was an intelligent, charming wizard, whose magical skills even she couldn't help but admire … how the jokes about them being the only unattached couple in attendance turned into a serious conversation about the benefits of marriage…

Wiping at her eyes, she continued to look out the window at the beauty of nature, but it left her empty. There was so much she wanted to tell her husband … so much. She truly felt that until Lucius safely returned to her, she would never be happy again.


	18. Chapter 18

Not knowing was the worst part of the ordeal for Hermione. Left to its own overactive imagination, her mind was free to conjure up all kinds of horrid scenarios, each one making her weep harder than the last.

It wasn't fair. She _needed_ to know whether the news was good or bad. The constant wonder was pushing her to the brink of sanity. Surely, she would crack under this psychological for any shred of news, Hermione remained at the Manor for the rest of the week. The surroundings suffocated her, mocked her loneliness. But to leave was unthinkable. Yet the silence of the house drove her mad. Kelsey mentioned that Draco had said something to her at the ball about going to a private island in South Pacific as part of his friend's stag celebrations. The house-elf may not find him anytime soon. And so, with Mrs. Swancombe confined to her sickbed, Hermione was all alone in her worry and melancholy.

Fresh tears came to Hermione's sore eyes and trickled down her cheeks. She dove into her pocket for a handkerchief, but cried harder when she noticed Lucius's initials embroidered on one of the edges. Disgusted with her weakness, she yanked open the bedroom door and headed down the hall. She paced these rooms so many times, but never noticed how hollow and cold they seemed when Lucius was around. Hermione wrapped her arms tightly across her chest in a useless attempt to guard against the chill. For once she noticed the full grandeur of her marital home. Normally when she was around Lucius she wasn't aware of the splendor of the estate. It was just Lucius's home … their home. Now as her footsteps resonated in the empty halls, she felt like a stranger here.

Hermione walked into a parlor. Gilded eighteenth-century portraits decorated the walls while antique divans dotted the floor. Two marble statues stood in the corners opposite each other. Her scowl deepened. It didn't look anything like the place where she and Lucius had shared so many intimate discussions. It resembled a museum, not a house. It was a place for displaying works of art, not a place for shared intimacy.

She walked out and headed for the dinning room. This was the place where Lucius must have entertained so many important people in the wizarding world. It was a place where they celebrated their one week wedding anniversary. And it was here that she ate her meals all alone this week.

Hermione closed her eyes at the memory and left before more tears assailed her. She wandered into the music room and stared at the imposing grand piano. Did Lucius play or did it belong to one of his ancestors? There were so many things she didn't know about her husband. Collapsing into one of the upholstered chairs, she stared at the impressive baroque painting on the ceiling depicting the two Muses Euterpe and Terpsichore. Another tear rolled down her cheek.

 _Come back to me, Lucius. Please, come back,_ she silently begged as she fell into foggy, dreamless sleep.

Hermione heard whispering sounds all around her before she opened her eyes.

"You're awake!" Harry's voice exclaimed in relief.

Groaning, Hermione blinked against the dimly lit room. Squinting, she tried to make out the blurry shapes before her. Kelsey and Harry eventually came into focus. She had their Floo Network connected in case they received any word about her missing husband.

"What are you doing here? Have you found him?" she asked them, her heart beating faster at the prospect of receiving news about Lucius.

"No," Harry admitted, looking uneasy. "I've come on orders from the Auror Office."

Kelsey swatted his arm. "You don't just blurt something like this out when she's barely awake."

Hermione raised her head up and immediately regretted it. The throbbing soreness in her neck almost made her cry out in pain. She grimaced and massaged at the spot as she pondered Harry's announcement.

"So what orders? What's going on?" she asked him. Despite getting some sleep she felt as fatigued as ever.

Harry ran his hand through his unruly hair and looked away. After all their years of friendship, Hermione knew this habit by heart: it signified great discomfort. Whatever news Harry and Kelsey brought, it wasn't good.

"The Auror Office wants to question you," he said. "They said we can do it here or at the office, whatever you prefer."

Hermione sat up, feeling rather annoyed. "I've already given statements about Lucius in his Missing Persons report. I have nothing more to add."

He shifted his weight, avoiding looking into her eyes. "It's… well, it's more complicated than that. The office received an anonymous tip that you're involved in his disappearance…"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Involved how exactly? I'm helping him hide or something?"

"Well, yes. It's a strange coincidence is all. He was summoned for questioning, then conveniently has something happen to him." Harry rubbed the back of his neck, looking more and more discomfited by the minute.

"Oh, for God's sake, stop mincing words!" Kelsey burst out. "The stupid Auror Office thinks you're helping him avoid the whole brouhaha with Cravens duel."

"What?"

Harry sighed. "They just think it's odd that a couple goes on a honeymoon after one of them kills in cold blood, then that person conveniently disappears on the day he returns and receives his summons. Your story is raising a lot of suspicion is all."

"Fine. I'll go tomorrow to the department and answer any questions the Aurors may have. Under Veritaserum even."

"Why can't you go today?" he probed.

Kelsey swatted him again. "Look at her! She's exhausted. I bet she didn't even eat yet." The blonde looked pointedly in Hermione in a manner that warranted no arguments from the witch. "I'm going to make some of my mother's famous chili, and you won't be allowed to leave the table until you finish at least one whole bowl. I know you're freaked out about this, but there's no excuse in not taking care of yourself. You'll need your strength."

"Fine," she agreed.

As the trio ate an hour later in the kitchen, the topic inevitably turned to Lucius's disappearance and Hermione's supposed role as his accomplice.

"Not everyone at the office agrees with the senior Aurors that you're helping Malfoy hide out," Harry explained as he dipped a cracker into the bowl and bit into it. "Some of us think it could be foul play."

Hermione shuddered.

"Harry!" Kelsey snapped at him, eyeing him with disgust. "I told you now's not the time to get into _that_ again."

Hermione shook her head. "It's okay. Really. Trust me, nothing you say is worse than what's been in my nightmares. Besides," she swallowed, "it's a possibility we'll have to consider. I mean Lucius had many enemies."

"Yeah, but who would do something to him here? Malfoy Manor is not exactly easily accessible to random people," Kelsey added.

Harry's green eyes crinkled in distaste. "Which either means the perpetrator had access to the Manor or sent him something disguised as a Portkey. We never found the letter he received, so perhaps he was lured out on some pretext about his business." He paused and looked at Hermione. "Or about you."

Hermione's stomach knotted in fear.

Kelsey bit her lip thoughtfully. "Maybe it's someone seeking revenge over Cravens. Or anyone else with a grudge. Like Hermione said, the man had many enemies. When it comes to business, he's ruthless. And I'm sure a lot of people begrudge him his power and privilege, especially since he got away scot-free for his involvement in the last war. We could be surmising all night long, but until we have something more solid to go on, the Auror Office will continue to go on with their original theory."

"You're right," Hermione resigned. "No one's going to think Lucius didn't deliberately leave town unless they have evidence that specifically points to another possibility."

"If you give a statement of what you know under Veritaserum, they'll have no choice but to believe you, then maybe they'll be open to consider other avenues on this case," Harry reasoned, swallowing another spoonful of chili.

Hermione snickered. "I doubt it. Ruling me out as an accomplice, won't rule out their favorite tune; they'll still think my husband's disappearance is a deliberate act of his own choosing. Face it, Harry, he's guilty in their eyes until proven innocent. I can only hope that by the time I disprove their theory that it won't be too late for Lucius."

(LINE181)

 _The blizzard raged all around Hermione, sweeping her farther and farther away from her goal. She was so close … so close. She stretched out her hands, hoping he'll be able to reach her. The wind whistled all around her, making her nearly deaf._

 _Then the snow and the wind disappeared, and Hermione was all alone in a dark room. Somewhere in the distance small flame flickered in the fireplace. She walked closer and saw Lucius in a heated embrace with Narcissa. She wanted to scream, to run, but couldn't move; her body was rooted to the spot._

 _The blonde witch looked at her and laughed. "Why would he want you, Mudblood, when he has me?" Her words taunted her, echoing all around the room as the flame in the fireplace burst forth and spread around the room, licking at her feet. Still she couldn't move._

 _"_ _He'd never want a Mudblood!" the flames sang out, dancing all around her. Narcissa Malfoy's laugh rang louder over them. The fire was getting hotter and hotter, the heat closer to Hermione's body. She wanted to scream, but the smoke was too much…_

Hermione woke up from another nightmare with a start, her heart pounding in her chest, the covers tangled around her legs. She was soaked in cold sweat, trembling, as she glanced around the room. Blinking, she tried to clear her mind and squinted at the bedside clock. It was three o'clock in the morning. In a few hours she'd have to get up and Floo to the Ministry.

Untangling herself from the sheets, she sat up in bed. The disturbing images of her dream resonated in her mind. She dreamed she was lost on Enchanted Peaks again. Through the blizzard she tried to get to Lucius. But she couldn't … she couldn't get to him … she couldn't reach him or see him. Then that awful scene again! Even in dreams, she didn't want a repetition of the incident that nearly ended her marriage. Besides, Lucius's disappearance had nothing to do with him leaving her for another woman. Perhaps a month ago even, Hermione might believe it. Not now. He wouldn't leave her like this. He cared for her. She couldn't judge by his words, as he had never outright told her, but she could judge Lucius by his actions. His actions proved many times that he had come to care for her … maybe he might even come to love her someday, in his own way.

Hermione knew that she should get some sleep, as she lay down on her back and stared at the ceiling, but it was once again proving to be too difficult. She closed her eyes, listening to the gentle breeze rustling the trees outside. It was as if she was on some isolated island, completely and utterly alone. She was slowly drifting off again when a noise in Lucius's private study next door startled her. At first Hermione thought she was hearing things. The distinction between dreams and reality blurred in her tired brain. Then she heard the noise again, followed by a loud thump.

Somebody was in the house!

As quietly as she could, Hermione got out of bed and made her way toward the door. Tiptoeing in the hall, she inched closer to the study, her wand clutched tightly in her hand. She listened carefully by the door, but the room was eerily silent now. With great care, she opened the door a crack and peeked in. In the darkness, she could see nothing. Raising her lit wand, Hermione gasped at the sight before her. The study had been torn apart. The desk drawers have all been pulled out, their contents strewn all over the floor. There were even gashes in the paneled walls. The only thing that was missing was the perpetrator. But whoever did it could not have exited through the door since Hermione was there, and there were no windows for them to escape through either.

Left with one thing to do, Hermione raised her wand and sent a distress signal. Soon Harry and his team would be here to look for evidence. Still her stomach twisted at the thought of a stranger violating Lucius's private space … if, indeed, it was a stranger.

* * *

 **Apologies for the long hiatus. I'm moving in with my own Mr. Malfoy and there's way too many changes in merging of the households that I didn't foresee. Once he'll leave for his business travels, I'll update more frequently. Not long to go in this story though. Thank you all for your constant support and encouragement!**

 **Hugs,**

 **Lana**


	19. Chapter 19

**Thank you all for reading and reviewing the last chapter. I'm so happy to have so many of you on this journey. Hope you'll enjoy the latest installment and let me know what you think :)**

 **Hugs,**

 **Lana**

* * *

"Were you able to find any evidence?" Hermione eagerly asked Harry, as soon as she left the interrogation chamber.

To her dismay, he shook his head. "Nothing. It obviously appears like someone was looking for something, but I don't know if they found it."

Hermione frowned. "But what could they possibly be looking for? And who would be so bold as to look for anything there while I'm in the house?"

"Well, that's why they did it in the middle of the night. They probably thought it would be safe then." He spread out a piece of parchment on his desk, where he'd drawn a layout of the room. "Based on the damage, they obviously weren't looking for jewelry or other valuables, but something small and important that would be kept in a study. What's curious are the walls. Look at the slashes, it's like they were looking for something that Malfoy might be hiding. Any idea what it might be?"

Pursing her lips, Hermione went over every conversation she ever had with Lucius, coming to the same conclusion. "The only thing I can think of is his formulae for reproducing gold and silver. I don't think he'll keep it in the house though," she said.

"What bothers me is that they are clearly familiar with the house, if they were able to get in and out without a problem," Harry said. "They didn't leave through the door, and there were no windows. Either they used Apparition or there is a secret way to get in and out."

"I could try to find blueprints of the house. Not sure how much help that would be, if it's meant to be a secret," she reasoned.

Harry cocked his head. "There's another thing."

"What?"

"Did they say anything to you during your interview?" he asked, running his hand through his hair.

"Just more questions about having any contact with Lucius after I've reported his disappearance." Hermione rolled her eyes in annoyance. "You already told me they think I'm an accomplice in his vanishing scheme. Their questioning wasn't exactly subtle, so I know that's still their main theory, even now. Especially now."

His brows furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean 'especially now'?"

"I got the feeling that your colleagues didn't take this incident seriously." She held up her hand before Harry could contradict her. "I know it looks like a strange coincidence that there was a break-in at the Manor the night before my questioning. I understand how it may look staged, especially as there was no sign of any intruder."

Harry looked distracted for a minute, then went on, "Yeah, about that ... don't you think you ought to come and stay with us for a while? You can't possibly think it's safe at the Manor now that someone's sneaking in and out. You don't know what they might do next time."

Hermione vehemently shook her head. "No. I am not going to be chased away from my house."

"No one's chasing you, it's just something to think about for your own good. If you don't want to be around Ginny or whatever, at least go stay with your parents."

"Harry, I'm fine. I'm a witch, remember? I know how to take care of myself."

"Not lately," he countered.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hermione couldn't keep the note of defensiveness out of her voice. She knew she had been a mess, but that was only unleashed in the privacy of her home. It's not like she went all over London in tears.

"Look at you! You're practically a ghost. You're pale, weak, tired, and look like you're constantly on the verge of tears," Harry pointed out as gently as he could. "That's not taking care of yourself. I know you're hurting and that this is difficult for you, but I thought you were stronger than this."

"I'm not exactly spending days moping around in bed, Harry. I'm doing the best I can under the circumstances. And I can't help how I feel. Yes, I'm devastated, because my husband has disappeared and I don't know why! I don't know if he's hurt or in pain, or a million things. I hope you'll never have to know what I'm going through, because it's the worst sort of torture. The hardest part is not knowing, not having any answers. I only know that he didn't do this voluntarily, but do you think it helps me one bit?"

Harry narrowed his eyes before speaking again, "Are you sure about that? Are you sure he wouldn't actually leave like that?"

 _What was that supposed to mean?_ "Of course, I'm sure!" she snapped back.

"You think so, but how well do you really know him? You've only been married since January, that was barely over four months. It's not exactly enough time to say you actually know someone. Four months is almost nothing. You're still practically strangers."

"I know it's not a long time, but it's enough for me to know who he is and after all that's happened between us, he wouldn't just abandon me," she argued back. However, her heart couldn't stop racing at Harry's implication. Something ugly settled in the pit of her stomach. She tried to keep the monstrous thoughts out, but cold sweat was already breaking out all over her body. Could he ...?

"But what if he has?" Harry pressed on. "Hear me out. It's just something I've been thinking about all day. He may have liked you, but a man like him gets easily bored, and not just with people. He may have found your arrangement fun in the beginning, but what if he's bored with it now? Skipping out on the summons and an unwanted marriage is like killing two birds with one stone for him. I guarantee you he's okay, and he doesn't spend his nights crying over you. Once he gets bored or tired of whatever it is he's doing, he'll come up with some bogus excuse, and I'm afraid you'll believe it."

"He's not bored with me," she said in as convincing tone as she could muster. "And why would he just disappear? Why not just agree to lead separate lives until we can obtain a divorce? We were doing just that. It makes no sense. When Lucius doesn't make promises he has no intention of keeping. He's not like other men, who need to do that to get what they want. That's the whole point: he doesn't need to resort to tricks and lies to get witches. Doing that would do nothing for a man of his ego."

Harry glanced at his parchment again. "All the senior Aurors are stuck on one theory, and I'm just trying to find the truth by considering all angles here. Without any bias."

"How's accusing Lucius of running out on me not biased?" Hermione held her ground, pushing aside her rising anxiety.

Her friend shrugged. "How's thinking only the best of him not biased either? When you're falling in love or think you are, you don't see that person as they really are; you only see what they present to you. Four months isn't enough time for someone to show their negative side. Malfoy's cunning and all, but he's also used to getting what he wants. Maybe when you first moved out, he saw it as a challenge. Once he won you over ..." Harry paused, pointedly avoiding eye contact with her.

Hermione squinted at him. "Just say it."

"You know how some blokes are. Once they got what they wanted, the chase is over, and they lose interest. Since he can't get out of this marriage so easily, maybe he thinks he can go do whatever he pleases, and you'll be right here waiting for him with open arms when he decides he wants you again. I'm not saying that's what he's doing, I'm just trying to think of all the reasons why he would want to leave: summons, marital problems..."

"We were reconciling!" Hermione insisted. "The Marriage Council knows the circumstances of our marriage when we tried to apply for the annulment. No one can go from distant acquaintances to spouses. Taking time off to date and get to know each other hardly qualifies as marital problems."

Harry leaned in and spoke softly, "I know. I'm just trying not to be personally involved. As your friend, I don't think anyone would do that to you. If anyone hurt you, I know I'd want to hurt them twice as much. As an Auror, I have to consider all possibilities - one of which might as well be dissatisfaction with personal relationships. It fits his behavior history: running away when things don't go his way."

After everything that happened between her and Lucius, Hermione couldn't imagine Lucius would just leave her of his own accord without an explanation. Even if he wanted to avoid summons. If he didn't want her to move back in, he would have told her. He was the one who always tried to move their relationship forward, while she was the one pressing on the breaks. Still ... as cunning as he was, there was a possibility that he could be pulling the wool over her eyes, albeit a very small one.

Harry continued, "He may be totally innocent too. He may be held somewhere against his will until he gives his captors whatever they want. That would explain why his study was trashed the way it was: the person who did it obviously didn't know the exact location of whatever they were looking for. The thing is, until we get something to point one way or another, any of those possibilities could be real. We have to eliminate and evaluate each one, you can't just dismiss something just because it's not what you want to hear. Just promise you'll think about staying over with me and Ginny."

She nodded. "I'll think about it." Hermione sensed the conversation was over and walked toward the elevators, feeling like a failure. She couldn't convince anyone to take Lucius's disappearance more seriously. No one had any hard evidence, only intuition. There was no progress at all.

When she arrived home, she lay down for a nap, but all she could do was turn everything over and over in her mind. Harry's theory about Lucius leaving her made no sense to her. The possibility alarmed her, of course. But the more she thought about it, the more unlikely it seemed. His Gringotts account was untouched. No one had seen him. He wouldn't abandon his business or his property, even if he did change his mind about her. When a man leaves a woman, he tends to disappear from her life, not from the face of the earth.

Hermione sat up with a sigh. She couldn't believe anything other than the fact that he was forced to stay away.

 _But why?_

To obtain his gold and silver reproduction formulae? It was likely. However, Lucius owned the patents for those; it wouldn't be enough to simply steal them, Lucius would have to sign the ownership over.

Of course!

That's why he would be held for so long!

Hermione stood up and went over to the study. She cleaned up the mess, carefully looking over every item. Another thing that was bothering her was how the possible kidnapper had gotten into the house. As she ran her wand over the gashes in the walls, she looked carefully over the panelling, but there was no sign of any secret entrance. Next, Hermione examined the floor, but her search turned nothing fruitful. As she paced the floor, something shiny by the desk caught her eye. Bending over to pick up the item, she could see that it was a ring. A black stone on a simple golden band. She looked it over, but didn't recognize it as anything Lucius ever wore. It was far too small for his fingers. Then on the inside band, faintly engraved, were the words _Toujours Pur._ The Black family motto!

That could only mean one person. Narcissa, his ex-wife was in their house last night. That could only mean that she was behind this!

Why didn't Hermione think of it before. The dream made perfect sense now. Or perhaps it wasn't a dream at all. It could have been a message from Lucius. Maybe he was trying to reach her by only means available to him.

Her heart hammered in her chest at the revelation. She remembered thinking it odd when she saw Narcissa at the Fire and Ice Ball, talking to Ginny of all people.

Ginny - the witch who felt she was so responsible for Hermione's accidental marriage that she would do anything, according to Harry at least, to correct her True Match spell. Something told Hermione there was a connection between those two and Lucius's disappearance.

Determined, Hermione decided to take Harry up on his offer and pay a visit to Grimmauld Place.


	20. Chapter 20

**Hope you guys like the new chapter! Thank you all so much for sharing your thoughts and insightful theories.**

 **Hugs,**

 **Lana**

* * *

To Hermione's annoyance, her attempt at stopping by the Potters' unannounced didn't go as planned. No one was home, and Hermione left a note with Kreacher to stop by her place as soon as possible.

As she walked around Diagon Alley in order to kill some time before going back to the empty Manor, it seemed like she was being watched. Ever since the night of the intruder, Hermione had an eerie feeling that she was being shadowed. Yet every time she looked, nobody was ever there.

 _You're being paranoid,_ she silently berated herself. Still, she quickened her pace to the Apparition point.

Was she losing her mind and becoming a complete nervous wreck?

When she arrived home, restlessness consumed her once more, as she waited for Harry to arrive. Hermione hadn't been able to sit still since her minor panic at Diagon Alley. Every time she heard a noise inside the house, she jumped. Her heart drummed in her chest, as she listened for the sound to repeat itself. She had an uncanny sensation that she wasn't alone again.

Drawing out her wand, Hermione crept around the rooms upstairs. Shadows appeared, then disappeared, but no one was ever there. She breezed through the remaining rooms, inspecting them as fast as she could, feeling as though she were suffocating. Feeling panicked, she rushed outside for a breath of fresh air. Her heart rate began to slow down as she walked across the lush lawn. Perhaps Harry was right about not staying at the Manor alone with an intruder on the loose. Yet she had her pride. It was bad enough that somebody kidnapped her husband and invaded her privacy, she refused to be spooked out of her own home. She was Lucius's lawful wife and the sole mistress of the Malfoy Manor. No one had any right to tell her how to live. Besides, Harry would be here any minute, and the house wouldn't be so empty anymore.

As if on cue, a male voice spoke up, "Hermione? It's me. Where are you?"

Hermione hurried back in through the kitchen. Harry stood in the fireplace with a serious expression on his face.

"Come in! I've never been so happy to see you!" she exclaimed.

He nodded, but didn't say anything as he walked up to her.

"We've new evidence about the case," he dryly remarked, his green eyes uneasily flickering away from her.

Hermione's hopes soared. "There is? What is it?" she eagerly asked.

The Auror looked grim. "Something that points to you, actually."

"To me?"

"The Aurors found Malfoy's wand in your flat. You did say you were home alone packing the day he disappeared, correct?"

"Well, yes," Hermione agreed, confused. Her high spirits rapidly evaporated. So she was right - somebody was following her, and this person was clearly trying to frame her. By the look on Harry's face, he clearly believed her to be guilty. Hermione sat at the kitchen table and motioned for Harry to do the same.

"Harry, please tell me you don't think that I would do anything criminal to anyone, much less to my husband," she implored.

He was silent, staring through her. His face set in an unreadable expression.

"Harry, I had nothing to do with his disappearance! You've got to believe me. Someone's been stalking me since the night that intruder snuck into my house. Look!" She produced the Black ring out of her robes. "I found this in Lucius's study after the break in. It has a Black family motto inscribed on it. It's obviously Narcissa's. Maybe she's the one who broke in. It would make sense, wouldn't it? She knows the house. The strangest thing is that I also saw her arguing with Ginny at the ball."

"How's that relevant?" Harry asked.

"It's just that ever since Narcissa moved back to London for her addiction treatment, Lucius has been harassed by the Ministry officials. There were false reports that he was violating gold and silver trading standards. His lab was inspected many times because of it, but nothing suspicious was ever found. Then he was accused by Cravens of bribery. Now he's disappeared. It can't be a coincidence that since his ex-wife came back into the picture someone's been trying to sabotage Lucius in every possible way. Someone with a grudge. For instance, his wife."

"But why is it strange for her to talk to Ginny at the ball? I mean, people don't have to get along to say a few pleasantries to each other."

"They weren't talking, Harry. They were arguing," Hermione clarified. "Maybe Ginny wanted to help her incriminate Lucius, so that our marriage would be quickly dissolved. I recently read that when a person is sentenced to a minimum of five years in Azkaban, immediate divorce can be granted, if the couple is childless. Maybe for their separate reasons, those two decided to come up with a plan that would end with him in an Azkaban cell, but something obviously went wrong. Maybe that's what they were arguing about at the ball. Their scheme wasn't going as planned, because Lucius was never close to being arrested, no matter how closely the Ministry was investigating him."

The young Auror didn't look convinced. "So you think because you found an old ring in the study that belongs to Draco's mother that she's behind all of Malfoy's recent Ministry troubles? And that my wife is somehow colluding with her? Hermione, Ginny feels terrible about the spell and the rift it caused in your friendship, but she wouldn't endanger anyone's life. And Narcissa Black maybe a lot of things, but she's not the type to hurt the father of her only child. It kind of sounds like you want her to be guilty just because she tried to seduce your husband on that mountain. Besides, one ring doesn't prove that she was here. One argument at some stupid party with my wife, doesn't prove that they're plotting anything."

Indignant, Hermione hopped off her chair. "But finding Lucius's wand at my place does? If I'm so guilty, why would I leave evidence where anybody would easily find it? Why not bother to hide it or destroy it before giving your office permission to search the premises?" she demanded. "I told your colleagues multiple times - under Veritaserum no less - that Lucius hasn't been to my flat on the day of his disappearance. Therefore, any of his belongings from that day had to be planted by someone who has him. It would be so easy, I'm never there."

Harry remained unmoved. "If you're good enough, you can block Veritaserum's effects, and everyone believes you are that good."

Tears sprang to Hermione's eyes. She felt like the rug was being pulled out from under her again.

"Why is finding Narcissa Black's ring in Lucius's study considered irrelevant, but his planted wand is enough to convict me?"

"Hermione, you've been married to him for five minutes. His wand would have no business being in your flat when you denied him being there that day. His ex-wife, on the other hand, was married to him for most of her life. It's not so unusual for her belongings to turn up here and there. No one's going to find it suspicious if her personal effects are found in random places. When you've been married longer than you've been divorced, it's hard to remove all traces of their existence from your life."

"Yes, but it was in Lucius's private study - his sanctuary. He doesn't let anyone in there, certainly never long enough to leave their possessions. And he's too organized not to notice something in his desk that doesn't belong to him. He's very fastidious about that. And I'll reiterate again, after Enchanted Peaks, Narcissa came back into town and everything went wrong for Lucius. First, someone accused him of violating gold trading standards and all these inspections started. When they predictably found nothing, someone tried to frame him for bribing Minister's Chief Advisor to provoke a deadly duel. Then, when none of those machinations worked out, Lucius disappeared. For supposedly an elite group of wizards, the Aurors aren't very astute."

Harry recoiled. "You're grasping at straws with his ex. Just because she did something you disapprove of, doesn't mean that she's behind all this. Where is the evidence? And finding an old ring in a house where she lived for decades doesn't count. You have even less on Ginny. One argument at the ball doesn't an accomplice make. I know Ginny made a mistake on New Year's Eve, but her heart was in a good place. Becoming involved in a conspiracy with a bitter ex to frame Malfoy, and then hold him hostage somewhere just so your marriage could be dissolved quicker is not something my wife would do. Do you realize how crazy that sounds?"

"Yes, but you said that she'll do anything to change what happened. Maybe she thought I was so miserable being married to Lucius that she didn't care what she had to do, as long as it got the ultimate result."

He shook his head. "I don't see how some row at the ball proves that Ginny's plotting with Draco's mum. I can see why you would think that if you'd seen them together on several occasions, but one time argument? No. Hermione, if something happened while you were away, you can tell me. I can help you, but you've got to come clean."

"But there's nothing to come clean about. I didn't do anything!" Hermione responded, sitting back down again.

"Just tell the truth. I know something was wrong. You two weren't even living together. You didn't even arrive to the bloody ball together. I can't help you if you won't admit to anything."

"Yes, we did have some problems. Yes, I was unhappy to find out that we've married because of Ginny's spell, but that's all there is to it. That's all I have to admit! I have nothing to do with Lucius's disappearance. I'm being set up, most likely by Narcissa. Why can't you see that?" She was practically shouting, but Hermione couldn't keep her voice down.

"Because the evidence is pointing to you. I can't ignore that without risking my job! I tried to defend you today, because the case against you is still weak, but my superior already thinks my friendship with you is compromising my objectivity. With the wand, they think it's an open-and-shut case."

Feeling defeated, Hermione slumped in her seat. "So I'm the suspect now?"

"Well ... yes." He scratched the back of his head, mussing up his unruly hair. "I had to sit through a half hour lecture on not losing my objectivity because of my personal relationship with you."

"You are losing your objectivity by refusing to consider my theory about Narcissa and Ginny," Hermione pointed out. "They each have a motive." A harrowing headache was pounding at her temples from this conversation.

Harry looked tired and irritated. "That's not the theory I can take to my department. I need something more viable than an old ring and some random argument that only you have witnessed. I can't investigate Mrs. Malfoy ... um Black ... just because you think she's behind it all."

"But you're married to someone you can. Prove me wrong about Ginny. Get to the bottom of this," she challenged her friend. "We could do it together when Ginny's out of the house."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "She has a match tomorrow afternoon. Although I'm not sure what you're planning to do."

She fought the need to roll her eyes. "Look for anything that ties her to Narcissa or to Lucius, of course."

"Just so you know, I'm not comfortable with this, but I'm doing this to be open-minded and check out any possible lead in this case. Remember though, even you could be wrong about people."

Bristling, Hermione raised her chin at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Harry sighed. "People can surprise you. I have a feeling that Malfoy is not exactly the person you think he is. Especially..." He paused. "You two are just so different. What can you possibly have in common with a wizard who's two decades older than you."

Hermione gripped the edge of the table. "I can't believe this!" she exploded. "You're lecturing me on my love life at a time like this? We have more important things to do than judge the compatibility of my husband here."

Harry lowered his eyes. "I'm just worried about you," he said softly.

"Thanks," Hermione responded bitingly. "I'm glad you're so interested in finding the truth."

"I am!" he insisted.

Hermione's lips twisted into a humorless grin. "Sure you are," she said. "You can let yourself out. I'm going to lay down for a bit."

She stormed up to her bedroom, her body pulsing with angry determination. She wanted to prove to anyone how wrong they were to suspect Lucius of any wrongdoing for the past few months. She had to do it for Lucius. And for herself. More importantly, Hermione had to kill any tiny shadow of doubt she might harbor in her own mind that Lucius might have abandoned her.

* * *

"Ginny normally keeps her correspondence in here," Harry explained to Hermione, pointing at the writing desk in his bedroom.

He and Hermione hadn't exchanged more than a few words since their argument the previous day. Hermione wanted to clear the air, but she didn't know what to say. She knew he wasn't comfortable with her suspicions about Ginny or Narcissa. She could sense that he thought she was grasping at straws with her theory, trying to pin the blame of Lucius's disappearance on anyone other than her husband or herself.

Several sheets of parchment and quills were scattered across the surface of the desk. Hermione began rifling through Ginny's things. Watching her, Harry looked ill at ease. "Don't you think that if anything tied her to Draco's mum and her alleged scheme that she'd destroy it? I know I would!"

Hermione acted as if she hadn't heard his remark. After thoroughly searching every drawer, she came up with nothing.

"See? She's innocent," Harry said.

"That leaves Narcissa then," Hermione said.

Harry glared at her. "We can't just walk into her house and go through her things like this. I don't have to remind you of how the legal system works."

She gave him a smile. "But you have an Invisibility Cloak."

"That's a terrible idea," he tried to argue.

Still Hermione was determined, and an hour later they were rifling through another desk across town in Narcissa Black's townhouse. Fortunately, the lady in question wasn't there, and they were free to roam around.

In the boudoir, a recent photograph of Narcissa with Draco at Enchanted Peaks caught Hermione's eye. It must have been taken after Draco had recovered from his ordeal last winter. The mother had her right arm affectionately wrapped around her son's shoulder. Clearly visible on her middle finger was the same ring that Hermione found in Lucius's study. If Narcissa had her ring on her after she had ceased to live in the Manor, then there was no reason for it to be there. That left only one explanation - she was in the Manor the night of the break in.

"I'm not one hundred percent sure yet," Harry said when Hermione excitedly drew his attention to her discovery. "But I think you're on the right track."

Just then Hermione caught a glimpse of someone at the door. Her heart nearly stopped and she gasped, clutching at Harry's arm.

Narcissa Black stood before them, glaring with fury.

"What do you think you're doing, breaking into my house and going through my things?" the witch demanded.

Hermione slowly turned away from the photograph. Hot anger surged through her. She wanted to throttle the woman for what she'd done to Lucius ... and for what she might do to him still.

"I can explain," Harry blurted, his face turning red.

"So can I," Hermione said. "You must have heard about Lucius's sudden disappearance. We're sure it wasn't deliberate on his part."

"What does that have to do with me?" Narcissa questioned.

Harry cleared his throat. "Nothing. Um ... you see ... we thought we'd see if ..."

Hermione shot him a sharp, silencing look. "Have you been following the story at all?" she asked the older woman in a casual tone.

Narcissa snorted. "I read _The Daily Prophet_ , just like everyone else. It doesn't explain why you're here though."

"Doesn't it?" Hermione challenged.

"I see. Well, unless you have a search warrant, you'd better leave the premises."

"No problem," Harry said, urging Hermione to follow him out.

"By the way, where were you last night?" the younger witch asked in a deceptively friendly tone.

"I don't have to answer any of your silly questions," Narcissa frostily retorted.

Hermione nodded. "I take it you must have a grudge against Lucius for divorcing you when you clearly needed him."

Narcissa Black let out a derisive laugh. "If you're making accusations, you'd better have proof, little girl," she warned. "As if I don't have better things to do than do something criminal to my weakling of an ex-husband."

Hermione pursed her lips and clenched her fists together, digging her nails into her palms, as she fought to keep her cool. "Seems to me not so long ago, you didn't feel this way about him. Especially when you tried to throw yourself at him."

A wounded look flared in Narcissa's eyes. "Lucius Malfoy is the most selfish bastard to walk this earth. He'll destroy anyone who cares about him," she said, her voice raw with emotion. "He'll always put himself and his needs above everyone else's. If you know what's good for you, Hermione Granger, you'll do best to forget him."

"Actually, it's Hermione Malfoy," she corrected the blonde, before marching out with as much dignity as she could manage.

Hermione knew everything she needed to know. Narcissa was the one who broke into the Manor and tried to frame her for Lucius's disappearance!

Now Hermione just wanted to know where that evil witch was holding him, and if he was all right. If only he'd send her another message ... somehow.


	21. Chapter 21

***Disclaimer: All characters and canon situations belong to J.K. Rowling.**

* * *

Anticipation was killing Hermione as she waited for Harry at Grimmauld Place. Making small-talk with Ginny was leading nowhere. Every time the topic of Narcissa Black was raised, Ginny's answers were vague and evasive.

When Harry finally arrived, Hermione pounced at him, dispensing with the usual pleasantries, as she bombarded him with questions, "Did they bring her in for questioning? What did she say?"

Harry looked at her with tired eyes; the pity in them was unmistakable. "The Head of my Department said it meant nothing. I tried explaining our theory, but he said we were twisting logic," he said.

Hermione clenched her jaw, her frustration level steadily surging. "So they really not going to look into Narcissa at all? Lucius's wand is found in my flat and everyone's all over me. The ring that Narcissa had on her person only a few months ago in January is found in my house in the same manner, and no one even bats an eyelash. I don't normally say this, but what the bloody hell is going on? It's like the Aurors want an easy explanation and don't want a real investigation."

"Well, _my_ investigation isn't over yet," Harry insisted.

"But I'm still the number one suspect, while the real culprit is doing God-knows-what to Lucius!" Hermione couldn't help but raise her voice.

Harry winced. "I tried, Hermione. I'll keep trying for you. We just need something more solid to go on." He squeezed her hand. "I know you're very disappointed, and you have every right to be. Try to understand that my job is on the line here, but I promise not to give up."

"What do you mean your job is on the line? Because of me?" Hermione was unable to keep shock and incredulity out of her voice.

"Yeah," he answered truthfully. "The boss believes that my friendship with you is compromising my objectivity on this case. When I was presenting our theory, he lectured me like a child. I want to be taken seriously as an Auror, not have everyone assume I got in on pure fame. Look, if they take me off the case, I'll still be able to help you."

She shook her head, feeling cornered. "I don't want you to lose your job over this. This was your dream since we were Fifth years."

Her friend continued, "I'm trying my best, but I'm all but forbidden to pursue other leads on this case. If it comes down to having to choose, I'll always pick you over any career. You're my best friend, Hermione, and I want to help clear your name."

"At least, you believe me now."

Harry was taken aback by her statement. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked.

"I'm just glad that you don't doubt my innocence anymore," Hermione clarified. "For a moment there, you seemed to think I was awfully guilty."

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I just thought if something happened while you were away, like you defending yourself, which would have been completely understandable. Never did I suspect that you would hurt anyone on purpose."

She nodded. It was comforting to have Harry's support again. When they were hunting through Ginny's belongings for clues and unearthed nothing, Hermione thought her friend's faith in her was definitely dwindling. The part about his job being in jeopardy, however, didn't sit well with her.

"Harry, listen," she began, "the Auror Office is obviously convinced that I'm either colluding with Lucius on his disappearance, or had something to do with it. Whatever they think, they have no solid evidence in either scenario. You don't have to risk losing your job. If they won't question Narcissa based on the ring I found, then I'll just have to find more proof. I understood early on that if I want to see Lucius again, I'll have to be the one to find him."

"Hermione, I wouldn't feel right letting you do this alone," Harry said. "I want to help you."

"And you are. I just don't want you to do it at the expense of your career."

It didn't escape Hermione's notice that Ginny had remained eerily quiet throughout the entire exchange. Not only quiet, but deathly pale.

"Ginny, are you unwell?" she asked her.

Her eyes reflected one emotion Hermione wasn't used to seeing on her feisty friend - stark fear.

"I am so, so sorry," Ginny half-whispered. "This is all my fault."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, glancing at her askance.

"Ginny, nothing's your fault," Harry interjected. "Why would you say something like this?"

"Because ... it is," she said, throwing Harry and Hermione a round of pitying looks. "If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't be threatened with sacking, and Hermione wouldn't be a suspect in a criminal investigation."

Hermione's heart began beating faster. "Ginny, what did you do?"

The redhead licked her lips, her posture was stiff and she still looked frightened out of her wits.

"Ginny, whatever it is, you can tell us," Harry lovingly urged, squeezing his wife's shoulder.

Ginny raised her eyes, looking past Harry, straight at Hermione.

"Few months ago I discovered that if someone is sentenced to Azkaban for longer than three years, their marriage can be dissolved." Ginny hopped off her seat and wrung her hands, the fear in her eyes turned into a maelstrom of panic as she rattled off her story, "You were so unhappy, Hermione. You wouldn't talk to me. You moved out of Malfoy's house. I thought if he were sent away for something serious - that's not like, murder or anything - that it would save you years of waiting for divorce. I thought the sooner things would go back to normal for you, the better everything would be. I just didn't know how to go about a plan. When I ran into Narcissa Malfoy at Diagon Alley one day, I approached her, and she seemed really keen on getting revenge on Malfoy, so we came up with a plan on getting him arrested for violating gold trading laws. She said it was the easiest thing to get him on, because he never stuck to the restrictions the old laws imposed."

Hermione's body shook with rage, but she forced herself to keep calm. "Is that what you were arguing about with her at Fire and Ice Ball?"

"Yes," Ginny admitted, looking more relieved now than anything else. "It wasn't working. Clearly, he was either very good at covering his tracks, or he was actually abiding by the new trading standards. Meanwhile, that witch was relentless; she was obsessed with having him arrested because the ownership rights to this gold-making formula would revert to her, for some reason or other that I don't understand. Anyway, the original plan wasn't working at all. Mrs. Malfoy was growing impatient, so she came up with a most awful plan to get someone angry enough to challenge Lucius to a duel. That's when I freaked and told her I didn't want to be involved in these schemes anymore. The night of the ball, I was trying to convince her to come clean about Cravens incident, but she wouldn't hear of it and tried to blackmail me." She paused, looking tearfully at Hermione. "I'm sorry. I didn't think she'd actually try to kidnap him."

Hermione blinked at her, anger engulfing her completely now. "How can you say that? She was perfectly willing to watch him die in a duel, I think kidnapping and torture is not too far off."

Harry stepped in. "Did she ever say anything about where she could be holding him?"

His wife shook her head. "No."

"Ginny, I thought I made it clear before that I didn't want you interfering in my life," Hermione told her, brushing off the witch's sorrowful looks. "Over and over, you meddle and make things worse. Why can't you learn to just mind your own business?"

"I'm sorry," was the only thing she whispered in response.

"Sorry? That's all you can say?"

"I wanted to fix things. I didn't mean to make anything worse," Ginny explained.

Hermione's anger erupted. "Well, you did! What's worse is that you could have spoken up anytime during the investigation to point the Aurors in her direction, but you've done nothing of the sort! You've seen me questioned like a common criminal, and you've done nothing! Your husband's career is on the line because he's willing to do the right thing and go against the establishment to defend me, and you can't be bothered to come forward with the truth! One time your meddling is required, you're content to do nothing."

"Please, I wanted to tell you the truth so many times, but-"

"But nothing" Hermione shouted at her. "There's no excuse, Ginny! None at all! For months you knew this woman was hell bent on vengeance. You could have come to me at anytime. Perhaps if you had, Lucius wouldn't even be missing!"

"I'm sorry!"

"Don't be sorry! Go to the Auror Office and tell them what you've just told us!" With that Hermione raced to the fireplace, picked up Floo powder and arrived back at the Manor. Harry followed closely behind.

However, their discussion stopped short when Hermione saw that they weren't alone. In her sitting room, Odette Swancombe and Draco were waiting with two wizards in Auror robes. The elderly witch was pale and very close to tears, looking more dejected than Hermione had ever seen her.

A lump formed in Hermione's throat; she tried to brace herself for bad news, but felt sick to her stomach. It was all she could do to keep retching at bay.

"What's going on here?" Harry asked.

"There was a deliberate attack on Mr. Malfoy's laboratory," one of the Aurors stated.

Another Auror approached her and Harry. "Mrs. Malfoy, are you the owner of this wand?" he asked.

Hermione looked it over, her throat tightening. "Yes," she said softly.

"We'd like to escort you to Auror Office," Harry's colleague said with a hard look in his eyes.

"Whatever for?" Hermione demanded.

"We have to question you about the new evidence we've discovered on site."

Bewildered, Hermione turned to Harry, who looked just as flummoxed.

"Mrs. Malfoy, we'd appreciate your cooperation, but an arrest warrant can be issued for Azkaban."

Hermione blanched. "Arrest warrant?" she gasped in horror.

"On what charges?" Harry demanded.

"The last spell on your wand was Fiendfyre. I don't have to tell you that it's an illegal Dark Arts spell."

"That's ridiculous!" Hermione spat. "I've never performed any Dark Arts spells with my wand. I told you, someone's trying to frame me. Tell them, Harry!"

Harry put his arm protectively around her shoulders. "Hermione didn't do this. I was with her the whole evening. My wife also has evidence to present against Narcissa Malfoy."

"We'll sort out the details in the Department. Let's go."

Hermione walked back to the fireplace, but turned around. She raised her hands to her mouth, thinking this must be a nightmare from which she could only hope to wake up soon. She looked at Lucius's family. "Draco, Odette, please, you must believe I wouldn't do such a thing. I'd never do anything to hurt Lucius or his business."

"All I know is that since you've married my father, he's had nothing but problems," Draco said bitterly. "Mother has told me of this rubbish of how you and Potter are trying to blame her for his disappearance. You better leave her alone or else!"

"But Draco, her family ring was found in Lucius's study! The ring she wore in that photograph when you were rescued. Please explain what her jewelry was doing in a place she hasn't stepped foot in all year, if not more!" Hermione couldn't keep her voice down as she continued, "According to Ginny, she has been trying to get back at your father all year, so she could get his gold-making formula. I love your father. I'd never do anything to hurt him, especially as things are going so well between us."

"My mother has nothing to do with it! You're the one who married him for money!" the younger Malfoy accused her, venom clear in his eyes.

"You wouldn't sign the agreement," Mrs. Swancombe said softly, clasping her hands tightly in her lap. "I never understood why."

She believed it, then. She believed that Hermione could harm Lucius, then burn down a place that held so much importance to him. It was almost as bad as when Harry doubted her.

"I didn't do it, Odette," Hermione whispered. Resigning, she allowed herself to be escorted to the fireplace.

She couldn't believe it was really happening, but forced herself to remain strong all through her interrogation at the Auror Office. After Ginny's statement, they let her go, but withheld her wand and all but put her under house arrest. When Harry finally left for the night, Hermione wandered around Lucius's study, unable to sleep.

She was certain that Narcissa must have entered the house through that room. But how?

A camouflaged doorway perhaps?

Malfoy Manor had dungeons, secret rooms and passageways wouldn't be so out of place here.

Hermione began to examine the room inch by inch. Under the desk, beneath the sturdy rug, she came across a trap door on the floor.

This was how Narcissa managed to sneak into the house undetected!

Hermione unlocked it with a wandless spell and summoned a flashlight, guiding its light over the opening. She saw a long, unending flight of stairs that led down a damp, musty corridor underground. Cautiously she began to descend. At the end of the passageway, she came to a huge door with an iron bolt. At the top of the door was a rectangle containing parallel iron bars. She carefully peered inside through them and gasped in sharp surprise. On an old cot lay a motionless figure!

Hermione slid the bolt with all her might. Pushing the door open, she scanned the small room with her flashlight. Aside from the cot, the only furniture it had were a row of shelves lining one wall. Seeing no one else besides the figure on the bed, she rushed forward. Although he was unshaved and unkempt, Hermione recognized her husband immediately. An exulted cry left her throat at the happy discovery. She found him at last!

"Lucius!" she cried out, kneeling beside him.

A morbid thought began to disturb Hermione as she inspected his body for wounds. Upon finding a faint pulse, her elation amplified. He was alive, but unconscious.

" _Enervate!_ " she said the Reviving Spell in a clear voice, pointing at Lucius with her hand instead of the wand. The wandless magic worked as Lucius slowly opened his eyes, which were clouded and dull. Hermione stroked his face until he focused on her. He tried to speak, but only grunts came out.

"Shh! Don't try to talk," she told him softly, stroking his bestubbled cheek. "I'm here now. Everything is going to be all right now."

Lucius's eyes widened and he tried to speak again. The very next moment Hermione's flashlight was knocked out of her hand, and she started to feel strangely drowsy until sleep overcame her entirely.

* * *

 **Yes, I know, a cliffhanger! But gotta parcel out a story in morsels to leave you all wanting more :)**

 **Lana**


	22. Chapter 22

Hermione saw only grainy light when she first opened her eyes, but eventually her vision returned to normal. She was sitting on the hard surface with magical bindings around her arms and ankles. She tried to struggle out of them, but it was no use. Her arms arched from the effort.

"Don't even think about it," a harsh feminine voice snapped at her.

"I knew it was you," Hermione said, looking directly at Narcissa Black. "Why are you doing this to him? To us?"

"Why?" the blonde witch repeated, her eyes flashing in rage. "Why? Because I gave him my life, and he stole everything from me in return. Do you know what it's like? Of course, you don't. You're young and carefree with no responsibilities. You don't know what it's like to have your beauty fade, to watch your husband become obsessed with a teenager, and then leave you for her. I built this house ... this home with him, and he turned around and gave it all to you!"

Hermione looked at the witch with deep perplexity. "I'm sorry for the pain you're going through, but you can't do this. You're not a monster. When marriages end, it's always painful, but don't let it destroy you. Whatever you're planning to do, you won't get away with it."

She let out a cruel laugh. "I wouldn't be so sure if I were you."

"Ginny has confessed everything to the Aurors," Hermione boldly told her. "It's only a matter of time before they apprehend you."

"They'll question me again. Perhaps search the premises of my home. Do you know what they'll find? Nothing. Not a shred of evidence. All they have are your friends singing your innocence, and all the evidence pointing straight at you."

"Evidence that you planted!" Hermione retorted. "Only simpletons would believe it."

Narcissa sniffed. "Apparently, they are, because they do."

"I don't know what you're planning on doing, but please reconsider," the young witch tried to reason with the scorned woman. "You don't need to hold us hostage. We can work out any arrangement, so you can get whatever it is you want."

"What I want? I want the life I built back. I don't want to sink away into shadows. I want the life I earned and deserved! I sacrificed my youth and opportunities to give the House of Malfoy its heir after five unsuccessful pregnancies. I held the family together during the lowest point of our lives, while my husband did nothing!" Narcissa raved. "Then, at the pinnacle of his success, I get discarded for a younger, more famous witch - the one young enough to be his daughter. To add insult to injury, the gold-transforming formula was my idea, and I don't even get any credit or financial compensation for it!"

"Please, be reasonable. Lucius didn't leave you for me. Your divorce was finalized long before we were married. We weren't even dating when my friend performed a True Match Spell. This isn't the case of a man leaving you for a younger sidepiece," Hermione argued.

"But it's all the same. What do I get?" the older witch persisted, chocking with rage. "He owes me that formula, at the very least. And yet, he refuses to give it up! But I deserve it!"

Hermione tried to look over to the cot on which Lucius lay seemingly unconscious again. "What did you do to him?" she demanded.

"Just a little sedative potion to keep him docile, but lucid enough to give me pertinent information," Narcissa replied with quaint courtesy.

"He doesn't look lucid to me. He needs to go to the hospital," as she talked, Hermione focused her mind on performing nonverbal, wandless spell on her bounds. The combination of difficult magic wasn't producing the desired result. Eventually, however, the bindings around her wrists loosened, and she surreptitiously slipped them lower down her hands. Now she had to concentrate and do the same to the ones around her ankles.

She had to keep Narcissa talking until the blonde could be distracted enough for Hermione to make her move. "Why did you set Fiendfyre to his lab, if you wanted the gold formula so desperately?"

The sly witch sneered at her. "Let's just say, despite my best potions, our husband is not very forthcoming. He won't tell me where he's hidden the formula and won't sign away any rights to me. Here's a lesson in harboring your greed. Looks like he cares more about his gold than getting back to you."

"He's my husband, not ours," Hermione snapped back after she felt her efforts paying off, and the bindings that held her feet together came undone.

"I guess there's only one thing to do now. If you haven't interfered, you could have found yourself happily widowed. But now that I think of it, it was a stroke of brilliance to set you up. Now Draco will inherit it all, with me at his side." She turned away from Hermione and walked toward the cot.

In one desperate leap, she jumped on Narcissa's back, threw her arms around her neck, and began to pull her down to the floor.

"Stay away from him!" she shouted at the vengeful ex.

The young witch tussled with her adversary, hoping to pry the wand from Narcissa's hand before she could utter an incantation against her. Her efforts came to naught when the blonde managed to utter a spell that flung Hermione off her with one jerking motion. Hermione's body hit the wall and smashed to the floor. The left side of her face stung, and her body throbbed. A trickle of blood began to spill out from one nostril.

Stabbing pain shot through her jaw as she spoke, "If you hurt us, it won't help you get what you want. They'll investigate. Harry will clear my name. No one will believe that I kept my husband locked in here all this time. The Aurors have interrogated me on his whereabouts under Veritaserum. Think about what you're doing. Don't let bitterness of your divorce make you heartless - that's not who you are."

Narcissa's face contorted in anguish. "I don't know who I am anymore. Everything that I am was tied to my identity as his wife. He's getting away easy, if you think about it. He should know what it feels like to have his whole life ripped away from him. And so do you."

She pointed her wand at Hermione, who struggled to pull herself off the floor, but the pounding pain at her side was overwhelming.

"You took it all. And you did absolutely nothing to get it! It was all so easy for you to step into my shoes, into my house, into my life."

Hermione shook her head, feeling an invisible force lock around her neck and begin to squeeze. She felt the pressure of blood filling her head, quashing out her temples. Her eyes bulged out from the compression, and she found she couldn't close them. A sharp explosion of pain radiated from her chest. Her mind blurred in dark confusion. Quite suddenly, the pressure from her neck disappeared. Hermione's heart galloped in her ribcage, as she sucked in the rushing air, but it wasn't enough. Her face felt numb and her limbs wouldn't move. She could barely make out Lucius's silhouette before the fog dropped down over her eyes.

When Hermione opened her eyes again, harsh white light stung her eyes. An antiseptic odor filled the air around her, and there was a terrible taste in her mouth.

"What...?"

She heard a familiar male voice speak to her, "Everything's fine, Hermione. You're doing really well."

As her eyes adjusted to light, she could make out Harry standing by her bedside, who began breathlessly, "I'm so sorry. It's all my fault."

"Your fault?" she echoed, confused. What was he talking about?

"Yes!" Harry insisted. "If I had tried harder, we could have got to her before she could do this ... before she could even set the Fiendfyre at his lab."

"Harry, you did your best. They accused you of favoritism, what more could you do? How's Lucius? Where is he?"

Harry bit his lip. "He's here, too. He's getting treatments for the wounds he received during the duel and dehydration from all the sedative potions. She got him with a nasty Dark spell, but the Healers reckon he'll be able to recover soon; it's nothing critical. Narcissa Black's been apprehended and is in Azkaban, as we speak. For life. Let's talk about it when you're better. The Healer said you've suffered tracheal and larynx injuries from her asphyxiation spell. They've given you a potion to heal it, but I promised not to keep you talking too much." He looked over his shoulder and winked. "There's someone here to see you."

"Who?" she whispered.

Kelsey stepped out in front of Harry. Her hair was tangled and make-up smudged. For the first time Hermione could remember, Kelsey wore no lipstick at all.

"That was trip-y," she said, tenderly reaching out to hold Hermione's hand. "Your hubby's a real hero. I didn't know anyone could be so pumped with potions and still have strength to duel with a batshit ex-wife." She smiled. "Love of a great witch can turn even the most hopeless of Death Eaters into die-hard romantics."

"He saved my life," Hermione weakly said, more to herself than to her friends.

"And you saved his. According to his account, you found him," Harry said, looking proud. "And my department will be issuing you an official apology, as soon as you're released."

"And WETMC is officially reinstating you to your post," Kelsey added. "Although I think you should tell them to stick it up their ass."

Hermione laughed, feeling the muscles in her throat burn at the exertion. Before she could ask any more questions, the Healer came in to administer more of a foul tasting potion and to announce that visiting hours were over.

At night, Hermione lay in bed unable to sleep. She needed to see Lucius so much. The thought of them being in the same building and not being together was making her restless. She had to be with him.

Before she could change her mind, Hermione snuck out of her room, performed an invisibility charm, and quietly made her way to the information desk. She seemed to float through the barren hospital hallways. Her soft slippers made no sound as they touched the floor. After sneaking a peak at the patient registration, she quickly went on her way. At the end of the corridor, she finally reached her destination and opened the door. Lucius was asleep on the bed, his face ashen, as if every ounce of blood had been drained from it. The rest of him was just as unrecognizable – his blond hair hung limply around his head, cuts covered parts of his face, and his left shoulder was heavily bandaged. He looked so painfully defeated, but Hermione had never been more in love with him. To see him alive, in any state, was everything she'd been hoping her for all the hours he's been missing.

She removed her charm and came closer to his bedside, raising her hand to caress his cheek. His eyelashes fluttered, and he slowly opened his eyes and turned to look at the young witch.

"Hermione … is that really you?" he whispered in a voice that faltered.

Hearing the pain in his voice pulled at her heart, and Hermione grasped his hand and planted a gentle kiss on it. "I'm really here," she said, as she lovingly stroked his hair. The corners of his mouth twitched up into a small smile.

"Y-you sh-shouldn't be here."

"Shh! Don't talk. You need to save your strength," she told him.

He weakly squeezed her hand, signaling his understanding.

Taking a labored breath, he asked her, "Why are you here?"

She snorted. "Isn't it obvious? I wanted to see you."

"But why? To see me all broken, weak, and completely revolting?"

"You're neither broken nor weak, Lucius. You're injured – that's a whole world of difference. Those bruises that you find revolting will heal and you'll be your handsome self again in no time."

"Handsome? With this beak?" He feebly gestured at his nose.

"Your nose is not big enough to be called a beak. It matches your face perfectly and gives you that unique flair of nobility," she asserted, somewhat taken aback by the cool nature of their reunion.

Lucius began to laugh but winced in pain.

"Do you want me to call the Healer to give you something for the pain?"

He shook his head. "No, that's not necessary. I'm fine."

"You will once you're home with me, and we can finally put this nasty business behind us," Hermione said.

Lucius took another arduous breath before speaking, "I was thinking that perhaps you'd be better off living a separate life without me."

Gobsmacked, she thought she hallucinated. "What do you mean? I'm your wife, my place is with you."

"Hermione, please, just move on with your life and forget about me. Wait it out until we can get a divorce degree."

"I don't want to forget about you!" In her flustered state, her tone was harsher than she intended it to be. Tears threatened to spill forth from her eyes, but Hermione forced herself to hold them back.

However, she couldn't hold back the emotion from her voice as she continued, "I love you. We decided on our honeymoon, remember?"

His eyes hardened as he spoke with deep certainty, "Things are different now. I was selfish to think we could have a life together. You've had nothing but problems ever since our marriage became public. You're nearly died because of your association with me. I can't guarantee that other revenge-seekers won't get it into their heads to do the same. You deserve to be happy and safe."

Feeling a fresh round of tears flood her eyes, Hermione struggled to keep herself from crying. Her head drooped dejectedly. Perhaps she was a naive fool to expect him to love her as much as she loved him.

"If you loved me, you wouldn't do this," she chocked out. Hermione took out the golden key that hung around her neck. "You see this? Remember the day you gave it to me?"

He nodded.

"That day you made me a real partner in your life, in every way. Now I may not remember much from our wedding, but I do remember that the vows include the phrase 'for better or for worse', and I take those vows seriously," she told him. " I want to be with you, no matter what it entails. We're in this together. I've faced some of the worst moments in my life in this marriage, but I've experienced the best times, as well. I've been pushing you away ever since I found out we were married, and you've fought for us just as strongly. So, now it's my turn. I'm not going to let you push me out of some misguided attempt at chivalry."

Without another word, he drew her into a tender embrace, holding her to him. Hermione clung to him, not wanting to ever let go. Tears that she held at bay finally spilled forth.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into her neck.

"I don't want to be apart from you ever again," she told him.

Lucius stroked her hair. "And we won't. I promise."

A warm glow began to spread through her body, as Hermione fell into a peaceful, dreamless sleep in the arms of her husband.

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you all for your tremendous patience with my inconsistent updates on this story. It's what I get for not having a designated notebook for each story. I'm so excited that this story has over 700 followers - that's a record for me! Thanks a million!**

 **Love,**

 **Lana**

 **P.S. If anyone is interested in Lucius/Lily, check out _Deceptive Lust_ by Silver Orbed Lioness. Not only is it a super sexy one-shot featuring our ****favorite Malfoy, but I always had a special spot for this pair as a precursor to Lucius/Hermione. Someday I plan to give that ship a go myself, but until then there's always Lumione :)**


	23. Chapter 23

**Hello, everybody! This is my first update as an engaged woman! I know it's been a while, but I never abandon my stories. All these life changes didn't leave a lot of free time, but I'm still here. A million thanks to all of you readers and reviewers! I love reading your feedback.**

 **Happy 4th of July to all of my American readers! Hope your day is fabulous!**

 **Caution: Lots of lemony delights in this chapter as Lucius and Hermione reunite :D**

* * *

Home. Never had Hermione appreciated the word more as she did on the day she brought Lucius back to the Manor. Since their reunion at St. Mungo's, she had spent every moment by his side. She suffered with him as he told the story of his captivity: being hit with a spell from the back, days of being sedated and subdued as his ex-wife tried to extract the gold-making formula from him, seeing Hermione come to his aid, then regaining strength enough to fight off Narcissa when he saw that his wife's life was in jeopardy. Each phase had to be told and retold by Lucius, so Hermione could fill the aching pain of their separation with detailed account of how he had been in the interim.

Once his tests had shown that the spell had left no ill effects, Hermione requested permission to bring him home. The wizard could recuperate just as well in his own bed with his wife at his side, she insisted. The Healers were understanding enough and gave their consent. Before arrival, Hermione had given strict orders to Draco that his father's welcome was to be as quiet as possible to avoid overtiring him and Mrs. Swancombe, but it was hard for anyone at the Manor to hold back their joy. It was evident that, for Draco, his father's return was the only glimmer of happiness since his mother was taken to Azkaban. Hermione noted with bittersweet longing how the young wizard fussed over his father and ordered the house-elf to and fro for an endless supply of refreshments, insisting on only the best morsels for Lucius. Although Hermione was in no rush to start a family of her own, the scene did make her wonder what their children would be like. Would Lucius even consider having more children, or did he think those days were behind him?

As the evening wore down, Hermione had to usher everyone out of the bedroom, so Lucius could get much needed rest.

"In a moment, Hermione," he said, glowing with contentment. "Don't you know that Malfoys are exempt from ordinary Healers' rules?"

"Those aren't just Healers' rules; they're my rules. And last time I checked, I was a Malfoy too. Wife's rules trump over husband's," she retorted, drawing the curtains close with a flick of her returned wand.

Lucius patted the space beside him on the bed. "Then join me, Mrs. Malfoy. I believe we were having a wonderful honeymoon before all this unpleasant business."

"And we'll have many more, Mr. Malfoy," she said kissing him. "Now rest."

The next morning Hermione lay in bed watching the sunshine patterns dance on the ceiling through the curtain slits and revealing in the new sensation of having Lucius next to her to wake up to. She turned to look at him, but he wasn't in bed. He was dressed and reading in an arm chair.

"You're awake!" she exclaimed.

"After sixteen hours of sleep, I should be," he drawled.

Seeing him all regal and immaculately dressed in grey robes with a silk blue cravat that accentuated the icy tones of his irises. Hermione was bowled over the familiar desire. It had been so long since they had been intimate, almost as though it was a lifetime ago. He probably would want time to fully recuperate before renewing their carnal relations. Still, there was one thing she learned on her honeymoon that wouldn't require much effort or exertion on his part.

Slinking off into the closet, Hermione searched for something sexy to put on, but could only come up with a frothy pink satin nightie. Lucius didn't notice as she walked up quietly behind him. She leaned into his neck, brushing her lips against his skin.

He sighed. "I see you missed me," he said, setting his book aside.

She took his earlobe into her mouth, nibbling, biting, teasing the soft flesh. She breathed hotly into his ear, "Yes, and I'd like to show you just how much." Hermione ran a hand down his chest and down to his groin, rubbing his stirring cock lightly. Walking around, she sank to her knees between his legs.

Lucius gave her a faint smile. "Practice time, I presume?"

"Oh, yes. Practice makes perfect." Her hands travelled over the Italian linen encasing his strong thighs. Touching the hard muscle was making her even wetter.

Lucius shifted in his seat, giving her greater access. She touched him over his trousers, feeling the outline of his growing cock, feeling it harden with each caress of her fingers. She reached for the zipper, slowly drawing it down, wanting to enjoy the process of the pleasure which she took for granted before. He leaned back in the chair, closing his eyes. Hermione touched his cock, gently at first, circling the flushed head with her index finger, drawing a sharp intake of breath from him when her finger idled on the top. She slid her finger down the shaft, her nail dragging purposefully along the length, the cock bulged more with excitement. Bending closer to him, her tongue traced a line around the circumference of the head, and she giggled when his cock jumped at the touch. A small trickle of pre-cum oozed out, and she licked it gently, his familiar taste sending a wave of excitement down her body to her pussy. She ached to have it inside her, ached to feel the comfort and security of the cock piercing her core as she wrapped herself about it.

Enveloping the head of his cock in her mouth, she swirled her tongue around the head. Lucius rotated his hips to push it into her mouth, sighing at the sensations washing over him. Her head bobbed up and down, moving her lips along the hard, veiny shaft, teasing the head and making his hips writhe. His tumescence pressed on her tongue, inside her cheeks and Hermione reveled in the power and control she had over him at that moment. Her pussy ached for him and she moved her hand to pacify it with her fingers. Feeling his cock in her mouth and her fingers on her clit. She greedily sucked on his cock, feeling her own climax grow and wanted at this moment to come while sucking him. Hoping he wouldn't explode, she continued, rubbing her clit with her thumb, tensing her hips and pleading with the climax to arrive. His hard cock pressed into her throat, and Hermione increased her pace and suction. She pushed two fingers deep into herself thrusting hard and reaching for the g-spot. Her climax arrived, and she dove onto his cock, pushing it back in her throat as the waves rolled over her. She wanted so badly to have him join her and send the hot stream of his release into her mouth. Her climax subsiding, Hermione released his cock and began taking long sweeps along his length with her tongue. She liked the smooth skin, the counters of his veins, the clean taste ... she could do this forever. Tilting her head up, Hermione met Lucius's icy lustful gaze. She wanted to give him the same pleasure she had. Remembering that he preferred a deeper penetration, she took him further into her throat, not focusing on her own discomfort. Few strokes down her throat and he was close. His hands snaked into her hair, tightening at the strands as his hips lifted up in down with determined pace. A husky groan preceded the salty fluid that filled her mouth. Hermione swallowed quickly, feeling rather accomplished. She continued to lightly lick him clean, then looked up at her husband again.

"I have missed your mouth around my cock, It has been too long."

"Only my mouth?" she teased, resting her cheek against his powerful thigh.

"No, my Little One, not just your mouth; I've missed every part of you," he said, his hand stroking her hair. It was a loving, soothing gesture - the kind that nearly made Hermione weep from such blissful happiness. The hand in her hair stilled, as he reached down to lift her face up to look at him.

"It's been too long since I've had a taste of you," Lucius declared.

Hermione was stunned for a moment. "Lucius, you don't have to ... That is, I don't want you to overexert yourself on my account. I'm satisfied enough."

He gave her his mysterious, small smile. "Oh, no, not yet, my darling."

Before Hermione could muster another word of objection, Lucius swept her up into his arms and carried her to bed, laying her gently on the plush mattress. He caressed her through the silky fabric of her negligee even as he stripped it slowly down her body. His hands quickly resumed their exploration over her exposed flesh. One of the hands slipping between her sodden pussy lips. Hermione gasped at the desired contact. He lowered his head to her neck, peppering the skin with love bites. She rubbed against him in response, feeling her body press into his, wishing he was just as nude.

Licking and kissing his way down her body, he knelt between her legs, parting the pink lips with his tongue. She ground her hips into his face, urging his tongue deeper, crying out in ecstasy. Lucius expertly tongued her, varying his speed, depth and touch, riding her hip movements and thumbing her clit to coax out another orgasm within her. Hermione spread her legs wider, savoring every bit of pleasure he gave her. Lucius wrapped his strong hands around her legs and holding them wider still, granting his tongue even more access to her core. As he sucked and tongued her clit, Hermione felt the excitement run through her veins.

"Deeper", she mewled. "Please", she begged as Lucius delayed his obedience.

His tongue reached into the wetness and he pushed it deeper as she wanted. Inserting a finger, he sought out and found her g-spot and immediately Hermione tensed as the trigger was hit. Her legs shook as the climax built, and he timed his tongue movements with her hips grinding onto his face.

Hermione was lost in the heatwaves of raging fire in her core, feeling his tongue lap hungrily at her. The finger inside her gently but purposefully continued to stroke her nub. She gripped the edge of the duvet, as she felt a powerful orgasm approach.

"Oh God, yes!" she gasped and then the flood gates opened and she came, wave after wave of scorching flames lapped at her body.

Lucius did not stop, but continued to lavish her with her tongue. The waves were barely over when she felt another close on its heels and immediately came again, this time collapsing back onto the mattress and calling out her rapture in broken sentences.

She was completely overtaken by strong emotions as she pulled him down for a frenzied, endless kiss. Their tongues swirled, his weight pressing against her body. Turning her to one side he gripped the inside of one of her thighs and lifted the leg up over his. Hermione delightfully noted that he had already divested himself of his clothing. His cock, rock hard once more, was inches from her entrance, and they both watched as he rubbed it slowly against her clit. She threw her head back, almost delirious at the sensitivity. Lucius slipped the head of his cock inside her and immediately pulled out. Hermione gasped. He repeated his movements again.

"Oh, don't tease!" she pleaded.

He gripped her hip with his hand and plunged the beaming cock into her. Hermione shuddered, but recovered, wanting to commit every second of her ravishment to memory. Lucius started with long, slow thrusts. She delighted at the sight of his cock parting her lips and watching his face contort in ecstasy. He rubbed his fingers on her clit while continuing the pumping, holding her steady, watching the expressions on her face.

"You are so beautiful", he said, looking deeply into her eyes. Passion and fire dancing in his.

Removing his hand from her clit, he placed it on her breast, kneading it in time with his strokes. Hermione was building quickly to orgasm again, whimpering quietly, her eyes hard in concentration.

"Oooh, yes! Oh, your fucking cock feels so good!" she cried out.

Hermione came thrice more, her knees buckling and thrashing, pushing her pussy deeper into his cock. Her nipples were at full attention, and he pinched one, holding her in the midst of the orgasm, using the tingling from the pinch to encourage more convulsions in her pussy.

He collapsed on top of her, holding her close, whispering words of tenderness in her ear.

"You didn't come yet," she noted, turning to look at him.

"Not yet."

She took his face in her hands, kissing him tenderly on the lips and pressing her body against his. His cock was full and he pressed it into her, guiding it toward her hands, and she obediently took the hint. Gripping the shaft, she pumped it as they continued to kiss, his groans of enjoyment uttered into her mouth, against her tongue.

"I want to try something new," Hermione announced.

"I'm at your service."

She climbed on top, straddling him, positioning her pussy over his cock. Bending her knees, she split her pussy gently with his cock, tensing and shivering as she pushed down. She carefully bounced on it, pulsing the cock in and out of her, balancing there without touching him with anything other than her pussy.

"This is amazing," he moaned. "You're quick study, Little One."

They continued for several minutes, his cock swelling as she thrust it into her, but not quite enough for him to come. She began to quicken her pace, her breathing heavier and labored. Hermione sat upright, her thighs against his side, and reached behind her to run her nails along his balls. She smiled, sensing the change.

Lucius rubbed his thumb on her clit in time with her thrusts, and she continued to stroke his balls with her fingernails. His orgasm was building rapidly, but he seemed to be fighting it off, withholding long enough to have an impressive eruption. Finally, unable to hold back any longer, Lucius grabbed her hips, grinding her onto him and thrust deeper inside her. He came into her in long, hot streams, as her pussy clasped at his cock, milking it and convulsing. They ground their bodies together violently, relishing the orgasms washing over them, both lost in the frenzy of sensations.

When Hermione came to her senses, happiness filled her heart, and the last vestiges of loneliness were banished. Sated and exhausted, they lay in each other's arms, kissing and caressing, still in awe of the desire and emotions that took over them. They were finally together again, and this time Hermione was sure they would be stronger than ever. Nothing and no one would ever separate them again.

"Welcome home," she whispered into his ear.

"It's good to be home," he replied, kissing her temple.

Looking into his luminous eyes, Hermione repeated her hospital declaration again, "I love you, Lucius."

He softly smiled. "And I love you, Hermione. You must have put something in my drink to make me so enthralled."

She smiled through the tears that welled up in her eyes. How she needed to hear those words, to know that it was the same for him! Never would she tire of hearing him say it.

"You wish," she joked. "Here was trying to be all romantic, and you go on and tease me. How annoying!"

"Get used to it, because I'm going to do this for the rest of our lives," he asserted.

She giggled. "And I'm going to do this for the rest of our lives," she said, kissing every part of him her lips could reach.

"That sounds like a tolerable proposition."

"Only tolerable, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Barely," he joked, rolling her over and returning her kisses with just as much passion. "Now I believe we have more honeymooning to do."

"You're insatiable!"

"Hmm, and you're delectable, my little witch."

Hermione leaned on her elbow. "I think it's time for another lesson."

He gave her a salacious grin. "What an excellent idea!"

* * *

 **We're almost finished. One more chapter to go!**

 **Thank you all again for your patience and continued support,**

 **Lana**


	24. Chapter 24

Sultry summer and autumn days gave way to dank and dismal December. Frost hung in the air, clinging on the few remaining leaves. Heavy fog curled around the Malfoy Manor, wrapping the grand house in thick white blanket, obliterating it from view. Only mournful cry of crows disturbed the silent grounds. Within the house, however, it was all light and warmth. The dining room resounded in affection laughter that greeted time-honored family jokes and teasing. Hermione watched fondly as Lucius regaled the company with the story of his recent professional triumph, then surveyed her guests. Seating around the table over the remains of excellent meal were Robert and Diane Granger, Draco and Kelsey, and Odette Swancombe.

 _A family holiday,_ Hermione thought. _My family._

"My sides hurt from laughter, Lucius. That was quite a story! Do tell us more," Diane insisted, wiping at her watering eyes.

"Don't encourage his exaggerations! He is a far better wizard than he is a comedian!" Draco boisterously cut in.

"Did you here that, my dear?" Lucius was pretending to be insulted. "My son's abusing his elders and betters. Again."

"Don't worry about him. That's what I'm here for: keeping this one in line," said Kelsey, rubbing Draco's hand protectively with hers.

Hermione chuckled. "He certainly needs it."

"They all do," Odette said dryly. "Look at Lucius. No sooner was he out of St. Mungo's than he was back on top of Malfoy Apothecaries, giving the Ministry sops hell. Thank goodness Hermione kept him from overdoing it."

"Overdoing it?" Lucius growled. "I was in more danger of undergoing it. I did nothing for an entire month after they released me."

"I wouldn't say nothing," Hermione slyly said under her breath.

Lucius gave her a loving smile and whispered in her ear, "I don't think our guests will be interested if we humored them with specifics."

She playfully swatted his knee under the table.

"Month or not, Father hasn't lost his touch. The gold trade has been fantastic these past few months," Draco said with obvious satisfaction.

"Behave yourself," Kelsey scolded him. "No talking shop at the table! Tell him, Hermione."

"Tell him?" She grinned. "Nobody tells Malfoy wizards what to do. Besides, you're going to have to put up with the business talk if you persist on marrying this ferret." She gestured to Draco, who pompously announced his intention of taking the description as a compliment.

Hermione sat in the middle of this banter with heartfelt gratitude for all her blessings. Odette was restored to full health and vigor; Lucius's company was thriving with increased credit; her parents put aside their initial disapproval and disappointment about her marriage and made meaningful overtures to repair the rift between them; Draco and Kelsey were happily engaged; and above all Lucius, her husband, lover, rock and support.

Lucius ... she was most grateful for his strength, wisdom, and love. She could not ask for a better partner, or a better father to her unborn child. She touched her belly; she knew it would be some time before she would show, but they have agreed that the Christmas dinner was the perfect occasion to announce their happy news to their family.

She was a bit worried when she discovered her condition about a month after her birthday. They hadn't discussed family, nor precautions against pregnancy; she and Lucius were also so busy with the company that the topic never came up. All in all, she felt it was too much too soon, especially as they only started living as husband and wife that summer. After her visit with the Healer, Hermione had struggled with the news for little while. She knew she would have to reveal the truth, but didn't know how. She planned on waiting for a while, perhaps hinting slowly to gauge his reaction. In the end, she decided against that in favor of a more direct approach. One night, as they lay in bed, she took his hand in hers and told him. His joyous reaction took her by surprise. She could still vividly picture the play of emotions on his face, the way his eyes shone with love and delight. Who would have imagined a former Death Eater could light up like a boy on Christmas?

Looking around her guests, Hermione also thought about the people who couldn't be here. It was no longer possible for her to spend the holidays with the Weasleys. Her relationship with Ginny was nonexistent. Even if she were willing to forgive and forget, Ginny's wand was confiscated, and she had a ten year ban on performing magic and attending magical events. Harry was having a tough time with the separation, but they were supposedly trying to work things out. Hermione honestly wished them luck in this endeavor. Despite everything, she wanted Harry and Ginny to be happy and have the kind of love that endures the toughest tests life throws their way. The trials in her own marriage this year have lent her and Lucius strength beyond her imagination. Perhaps it would be the same for the Potters.

Bittersweet sadness tugged at Hermione's heart at the thought of her greatest friendships evolving so much. Ron, Harry, and Ginny would always have a special place in her heart, and she would never forget them. By the same token, they all were bound to take separate paths in life.

Lucius caught her eye. Love surged between them.

She was beyond excited to discover just where journey would lead.

A wild outbreak of laughter broke out between Kelsey and Draco, jerking Hermione out of her reverie. There would be enough time for deep thoughts and reflections when she would be on her own.

Lucius stood up to make their announcement. "I don't mean to interrupt the festivities, but we do have an announcement to make."

"So do we," Draco spoke up. "We decided on a date."

"Yes, Draco and I decided we want a June wedding," Kelsey added.

"Splendid! We can do it in Swancombe Mellow," Odette enthused. "Perhaps in rose gardens or the lake. It's most divine at sunset! I can just picture a cloudless day, food, flowing champagne-"

"Grandmaman," Lucius gently interrupted, "before you move to plan the honeymoon, we have an announcement of our own that mind get in the way of early summer weddings."

There was a general ripple of interest from their guests as they looked on Hermione and Lucius with curiouity.

Hermione stood up to join him. "In fact, if Kelsey and Draco do decide on June, there will be an extra family member in attendance."

The eyes of Diane Granger lit up. "Are you saying what I think you are?"

"Yes, mum! We're expecting our first in mid June," her daughter confirmed, beaming.

A round of dazed and joyful congratulations followed with Odette's being loudest of all. She was beyond ecstatic at the prospect of becoming a great-great-grandmother. After the usual questions about the pregnancy were asked and answered, the entire family gathered around the tree to unwrap the presents. Amidst all the commotion, Lucius and Hermione managed to find a brief moment to themselves under the mistletoe in the parlor.

"It's almost a year to the day," she reminded her husband after he released her from their kiss.

"Hard to believe it's only been a year," he said. "What would you like for an anniversary present?"

Hermione sighed in contentment. "I already have everything I want right here."

"Still we should do something to celebrate," Lucius insisted.

"Of course, we will!" she agreed. "In fact, we should begin later tonight."

"Oh, you wicked, wicked wench!" He pulled her in and kissed her again. "Look at us, a baby on the way, and all we can think about is fucking each other's brains out."

"And it's only year one of this wretched marriage!" Hermione joked with a wink, as she sauntered off to rejoin their family.

Never had the future looked more golden for the Malfoys.

* * *

 **This is the end, at least for the time being! I may revisit for a sequel in the future, but for now this is where I leave them.**

 **Tremendous thanks to all of you fabulous readers and reviewers. Your feedback has been invaluable and I hope you'll check out my other Lumione stories :-)**

 **Lots of love,**

 **Lana**


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